New Lead
by ShadowPillow
Summary: Ten years have passed since Voldemort attacked the Potters, and Harry became the Boy-Who-Lived. One year has passed since the Elric brothers were trapped on this side of the Gate. Now, they are living in London, and soon these two worlds will collide. And in this collision, the Elrics find a new opportunity, a New Lead, to get back home: magic. (Post CoS, 2003 anime)
1. New Lead: Prologue

**This story starts after a slightly alternate version to the movie Conqueror of Shamballa **(not CoS as in Chamber of Secrets, sorry to disappoint). Instead of the whole pre-WWII deal going on, this deals with a more fanatic offshoot of the Golden Dawn in the UK (caused by Hohenheim approaching them for rumors of their more "magical" qualities and their scholarly interest in these things) . They begin to explore alchemy, and Ed becomes involved similarly to in the movie (Envy the dragon). Noah is pursued for her more mystical skills, and Alfons works as a space engineer alongside Ed. The basic story layout is the same, it's the setting that's different. This may affect the plot of this later on, considering that the Golden Dawn especially emphasized magic (which was never proven to be a certainty to Ed and Al), and the world of Harry Potter operates on magic being real. So, it gives this story some more depth that I can work with, and plus, it gets rid of that nasty time skip that was present in the previous version. Convenient how it all works out, isn't it? Anyway, no offense to anyone who might take offense. If you know more about the Golden Dawn then I do, feel free to tell me stuff!

Most of it should be explained through the prologue, though if you have any questions throughout, just hit the review button. I'll PM you back :)

* * *

**New Lead  
**Prologue.

* * *

Ed had never understood Halloween.

Sure, as a child, he had celebrated it as readily as the next kid, but he had never quite grasped the point of it all. Visiting house to house to get some candy? Something to do with the devil? It made absolutely no sense. The pastor claimed it was sinful, so why was it so prevalent throughout Amestris?

He had thought he had understood _that _at least. After all, all kids wanted candy, right? It had become a precious custom, and if it were ever taken away, the adults may have a revolt on their hands.

Now though, he wasn't so sure.

"Is the portal ready?" one of the so-called "magicians" said. Or perhaps this one didn't claim the title. Some of these "Golden Dawn" members did, while others didn't. It had become too difficult to keep track of.

"Perhaps." The second man's eyes shot to him. Ed's body tensed; were they finally going to ask him to do _something_? It wasn't like he was here, all tied up and pretty because they wanted him to watch. Obviously it had something to do with alchemy – a theory that was only reinforced by the giant transmutation circle etched into the ground. It's purpose was all too clear for his trained and weary eyes: to open the Gate to his own world. Yet he could see slight faults: the chalk was too faded, the lines too curved. It didn't matter anyway; it was never going to work. In this world it was impossible.

"_Is_ it ready, Mr. Elric?" Suddenly, the other man was in Ed's face, leering with damp breath. He felt a snarl form at his face, anger course through his veins. What the hell did this guy think he was doing? It was an invasion of personal space.

Before he knew it, he had pulled back his foot and hit the man in the guts. The "magician" doubled over, wearing a pained expression.

"Mr. Elric, I would appreciate it if you did not –"

"What the hell?" the angry words slipped out far too easily. "You _kidnap _me for no reason, leave me here tied up without telling me anything, and suddenly you just ask something weird and creepy about this," – no, he couldn't tell him he knew what it was – "_thing _that you have there? What is that anyway?"

The man laughed. He freakin' _laughed. _

"You should not feign ignorance, Mr. Elric. Your father has already told us what we need to know."

"Oh yeah?" he taunted. "Then why do you need me?"

Silence. Ed felt a victorious grin form on his face.

"See? You don't know anything, you kidnapping bastard–"

"He's dead."

He felt his eyes widen with shock. Only a moment later, they narrowed suspiciously.

"You're lying." The Bastard couldn't be dead, not yet. "He still had some time left." He heard a sigh, and the man began pacing from side to side.

"Mr. Elric, do you know why we chose today to activate the portal?" Ed remained silent, and the man smirked. "You see, on Halloween, the veil between worlds is thinnest. It's the easiest day to get through. Unfortunately, your father could not wait for this–"

"Bullshit." The curse came out easily. "He's not dead." Not to mention there were so many other things wrong with that statement. The veil between worlds? There was no veil. It was a Gate, and Halloween had nothing to do with it. Even if it had been Halloween when Ed had ended up in this world the first time...

"– this day," the man continued patiently, as if Ed had never spoken. That pissed him off more than anything. "So I'm afraid we have to request your assistance instead."

"Oh? My _assistance_? What a nice way to put it." Ed smirked, even as he felt his blood run cold. "So how are you going to claim the old man died, huh? Heart attack? Shot a bullet into his brains? Lab accident?" As if the Bastard would let himself be killed before Ed could level a good punch at him.

Wordlessly, the man pointed up. Ed's gaze was drawn to the large turquoise dragon arranged in a circle on the ceiling and he cursed fervently. _That _he could believe.

"Envy," he hissed. Strangely, the homunculus did not respond, instead it's vision gazing forward blankly. He wondered why that was. Last time he had seen the monster, it had been in this world, and despite the form change, he had still been alive and _squirming_.

"Yes, that is the monster that killed your father." A humorless grin. "I'm afraid it would be impossible to allow you your revenge."

Ed _snarled_. The man raised an eyebrow, then jerked his head to the transmutation circle on the floor.

"Well? Are you satisfied that we require your help? That we really don't know about your magic, this 'alchemy?' Yes, we know what it is," he said, seeing his shocked look. "What do you say?"

"Go to hell." There was a ghost of a smile on the man's face.

"Very well." He turned to the other man. "Bart, go get Noah."

_Noah?_ Ed's eyebrows furrowed together. No, they couldn't mean...

But sure enough, just minutes later, there she was. The dark-haired gypsy girl who had been staying with him the past few weeks. He had wondered how she had fared after he'd been taken. Well, now he knew.

"Sorry, Edward." Her face was turned down, so it was covered in shadow and he couldn't see her eyes. "But I can't stay here. I want to see _your _world."

"_My _world?" he said in disbelief. "But I thought –" He bit his lip to stop the words from escaping, glancing to the Golden Dawn members. He didn't trust them.

"Thought what?" she demanded. He chose not to answer the question.

"What are you doing here, Noah?" he asked instead. Now, the other man returned to his little game of _annoying-the-hell-out-of-Edward_, putting a hand onto Noah's shoulder with a smile.

"This girl possesses the unusual talent of being able to read minds." He gestured towards Ed. "Noah, would you please?" The girl bit her lip, but nevertheless walked forward. As she approached, Ed thrashed in his bonds, trying to loosen the rope as fast as possible.

"Wait, Noah! They're going to _use _my world – all they want is to be able to use alchemy. There's no telling what could happen – Noah!" She had already placed her hands on his arm. Desperately, he tried to block out the images of alchemy, the knowledge, the _Gate_, but the more he tried, the more the memories resurfaced. He looked desperately into her brown eyes, _begging _for her to not do it.

"I'm sorry, Edward." She turned away. "The lines need to be reinforced. And –" she hesitated, her mouth opened to say the words Ed most wanted to stop, "There should be a Gate on the other side."

Ever since then, he couldn't ever think of Halloween in quite the same way. It was a day of many terrors, betrayals, _deaths _(Oh, Alfons, you were so _innocent_), yet also in a way, a day that contained victories, at the cost of many lives. This offshoot of the Golden Dawn had been fanatical – Ed had been right to warn Noah not to do it. As soon as they had gained the power to do what they had dreamed of and spent their whole lives studying, they had run rampant across Amestris. The only, wondrously bright highlight had been Alphonse.

His little brother. For two years, he had been stuck in this world, never knowing for certain if his final transmutation had succeeded, if Al was even alive. He had been alone save for Hohenheim, and hated nearly every second of it. His only light had been Alfons, a mere shadow of what his real brother had been to him. He had existed in a world without color, a boy who had lost the dream world he had lived in all his life.

On that Halloween, all that terror and uncertainty had ended. Al was alive, human, and with him.

It was only a year after that when things began to change...


	2. Almost a Home: Phase 1

A/N: I don't own Fullmetal Alchemist or Harry Potter.

* * *

**Almost a Home**  
Phase 1.

* * *

The music played softly in the background. It was mellow compared to the thundering, crashing music that was so prevalent in these times, yet powerful in its own right. There were the rising crests and the falling trills of the violent; the deep bass of the guitar amp echoing through the restaurant, supporting the entire orchestra. Then, a solitary clarinet, playing through intricate melodies both high and low pitched, yet still melding its voice to the rest. And yet, more than anything else, it felt real. Al could feel the music; he could –

"So." An awkward voice broke into the silence that had encompassed the table. "Got any other plans for tonight?"

Al had to contain his sigh. Jean Havoc of this world didn't have the patience for classical music. For that matter, he wasn't sure the Havoc they had known back in Amestris had appreciated it either. Maybe if there was a woman beautiful enough for him...

He had to suppress a snicker this time. In both worlds, Havoc, no _Jean_, had trouble when it came to women.

"Nope." This time is was Brother, cheerily answering back. "No plans at all. Right, Al?"

"None," Al agreed easily, and Jean got that contemplative look that really meant he had actually been planning this all along.

"Hey, you know," he started casually, "a few of my friend and I were planning to see a movie later –" But he stopped when Ed began choking on his water, a frown replacing the friendly look on his face moments earlier. "What's so funny about that?"

"You –" A hacking cough. "– You brought us here to ask us to come with you to the _movies_? Come on, Jean, restaurants like this aren't cheap." And Ed wasn't making that bill any smaller, Al noticed, eyeing the stacks of plates in front of his brother.

But to both of their surprise, instead of shrugging it off modestly or even boasting at how it was nothing to him (which actually would have been more surprising, considering Jean worked at a department store), his face turned bright pink and his bottom lip started to wobble. Clearly, something was wrong.

"It – it was a –" His words turned into an incoherent babble and the other two leaned in, trying to hear.

"What happened?" Al tried to ask gently, but Jean instead burst into long chocked, wretched sobs. Many of the restaurant attendants had begun giving them strange looks.

"Hey, Jean, it's okay," Ed started to say, hands raised in an attempt to force calm. "You don't have to –"

"IT WAS FOR A GIRL AND SHE DUMPED ME!" he wailed. The two brothers leaned back in their chairs at the sudden shockwave of sound and shared startled glances.

It was going to be a long day.

⁂ ⁂ ⁂

Three terrible, agonizingly long hours later, they were walking out of the movie theaters. Only one of Jean's friends had come along to share in the misery of watching a sappy love story with a soggy, tear-filled Jean Havoc clinging to their shirts. Apparently, he was his roommate and had to take care of him.

Jean was a good, nice guy, but sometimes, it was just a little too much.

"Hey, I'm sure you'll find another girl," Brother said, awkwardly trying to comfort him. Al joined in a moment later.

"Brother's right! You're a nice guy; no one can resist you for long." A few moments later, and tear-ridden eyes looked up to the brothers in what could only be called a puppy face.

"You think so?" he said, and when they nodded, he seemed to cheer up considerably. "Thanks!" He grinned. "You know, this is what I like about you two. And, uh," he paused, looking sheepish for a moment, "Sorry about the movie. It was kind of cheesy, wasn't it?" Ed let out an easy laugh, his relief obvious.

"Yeah, it really was. Next time, you let me pick." Al made a face.

"I'm not sure that's a good idea, Brother." He could see Ed roll his eyes.

"Oh, come on, Al. I know I've got better taste than _that _klutz anyway." He titled his head to Jean, but there was a grin on his face.

"Hey! I'm not a klutz!" Jean protested indignantly, but his "friend," Alex, chose that moment to betray the blond.

"Sure you are, Jean. Remember that time when you crashed into that doorway with the cart?" Jean's open mouth was enough to prove that this was no fictuous story.

"Alex –! You know what, forget about anything I said about you guys being nice." He _humphed _and turned around, walking away from us. "I'm going home!" He called out, almost like a rebellious teenager. Alex gave the brothers an apologetic glance and chased after him.

"Sorry, I gotta go before he locks me out of the flat," he said, and left the two alone in the street. For a moment, Al stared after them. And then...

"I'm just glad he didn't take us to another concert." He heard a badly-stifled snort of laughter from Ed.

"Yeah, you ran out pretty quickly after _that_. 'A butchery of music', right?" Brother lifted his fingers as if to put it in quotation marks, and Al mock glared at him.

"It was! I don't even know how I can _hear _after that –" But now Ed was laughing, and the affront act fell all too easily and Al found himself laughing alongside Ed. It took a few minutes for it to die out, every look at each other's face only inspiring more fits of laughter.

When they were finally on their way again, back to the house, Al risked speaking.

"He's really a good guy, isn't he? Jean?"

"Yeah." Ed's voice was soft, reflective. "we only met him a few months ago, but he's already taken it upon himself for us to learn all the joys of modern society." There was a wry grin on his face, and a small uplift to his tone to show he was joking.

But it was only partially; the majority of the message had been true. Jean Havoc had done a lot for them. Maybe he had noticed how they subconsciously leaned towards him, a familiar figure in this unfamiliar world, and so he had taken them under his wing. But he had never had to, and so both of them were grateful to him. Sometimes he had these dramas like today, but he was a good man.

Sometime, Al had wondered at that. There were clear differences between the Jean of this world and the Havoc they had known. Jean was more carefree, an adult well-versed in today's modern society, where Havoc was an experienced soldier. Others Al and Ed had seen in this world too had such conflicted characters. And since they had never quite settled down, never quite called a place "home," they had seen many of the dopplegangers in various places.

Now, Al and Ed had been living in London for a few months for Ed's work. Even after Alfons died, Ed still pursued space engineering. Al knew that his brother knew it wouldn't get them back to their world. Instead, it was more of a respect for the friend he had lost, to continue in his work. This had again brought Ed to London, where he had been working before, but in a different area than back then. Sometimes, Al would go with Ed to visit the Hughes and Gracia of this world. They were living well together, and expecting their firstborn any moment now.

As for Al, he was in school. It was one of the more frustrating things about this world. His body was under the age limit, and so he was required by law to go.

"Hey, Al." He looked up at that tone. He'd know it anywhere. Brother was planning something. "It's Halloween tomorrow." He looked at Ed cautiously, trying to understand.

"...And?"

"Think about the date, Al." It took a moment, and then he realized, a wide grin flourishing on his face.

"Of course! The Golden Dawn opened the portal on _Halloween_ last year. It's been a year since we've been in this world." Ed nodded eagerly.

"And this year, we'll make it the best Halloween ever, right Al?"

They shared infectious grins.


	3. Halloween: Phase 2

A/N: And the last chapter for now. Thank you everyone who decided to follow this story before despite it's terribleness!

* * *

**Halloween**  
Phase 2.

* * *

Ed peeked out the door before taking a cautious step outside. Instead of only a few people wandering about to watch him setting up the decorating, there were many – all wearing cloaks.

_Starting Halloween a bit early, then? _he thought, watching them. Strangely enough, most were adults instead of kids, and many were sporting point hats. Maybe there was a witch fetish this Halloween?

He didn't know if that was common around here. After all, last year he'd been too busy stopping the invasion of his world to worry about people in pointy hats.

He shrugged and started putting up the decorations. There was no reason to stand and gawk in the doorway after all. There was work to do, and he was planning on doing the best job he could.

Unfortunately, there was little to decorate the small house they were renting in the suburbs. The mail box? What could he put on it? Maybe some grass?

Ed found himself uncomfortably out of ideas. If he had alchemy, he could make the place look as spooky as possible in a jiffy, but as it was...

He'd just have to improvise a little.

⁂ ⁂ ⁂

An hour later, Al found him covered in dirt and surrounded by odd figurines. Ed had taken some paint from inside and swabbed it onto the dirt to make the various ghouls and zombies and fake graves more realistic and less... dirt-like. For a job done without alchemy, he decided, it was pretty well done.

Al had a different opinion on the matter.

"Brother!" he exclaimed when he saw the wreckage of the lawn, eyes widened. "How are you planning on cleaning this up?" Ed gave him a goofy grin.

"I haven't really thought about it."

He earned a wack from Al's none-too-gentle hand.

"Ow!" He pouted, holding his left shoulder as if it were mortally wounded. "What was that for?"

"For not thinking," the younger brother replied easily.

Ed stuck his tongue at him.

He earned another wack.

"And I thought Winry was the mean one..." he muttered. Al gave him some kind of evil smirk, and Ed raised his hands in mock surrender.

"All right, all right! I'll figure out a way to clean it up! But for now –" He grinned cheekily. "– You can't say it's not the spookiest house on the block." Al laughed.

"That's true." He took a seat on the ground next to Ed. "But the grass won't be growing back anytime soon." He gave Ed a playful push, which he promptly returned. Soon, they were both sprawled on the ground, laughing.

It was nice not to have to worry about anything, to be so carefree again. Maybe Al and him would finally just be able to rest, together like this, just like they had before...

"Why do you think there are so many owls out today?" Al's voice startled him from his thoughts.

"Hmm? Owls?" But now that Al had mentioned it, he could see them nearly everywhere, flying over nearly every building. Even on their own house, there were a few perched on the rooftop. "I don't know, Al. It is a little strange." He grinned. "Maybe it's just a part of the Halloween decor." But Al still had a thoughtful expression on his face.

"No... I don't think that's it." Slowly, he got up from the ground. "And the whole outfit thing is a bit strange. Could it be the Golden Dawn again?" Ed frowned and stood up next to his little brother.

"It could be. Halloween supposedly amplifies magic, so it makes sense that some members might want to try again." He groaned and reached out a hand to rub sore back muscles. "Al, I'm too old for this. I'm already nineteen!"

"You're not that old, Brother." But a smile could be heard in his voice.

"Yeah, yeah. Well, let's get to it, all right? You never know quite when old age'll catch up to me."

Al laughed and watched as Ed spryly jumped onto the street from the elevated landscape of the lawn.

"Do you think someone as _old _as you could do that so easily?" Ed heard him say.

"Shut up, Al," he grumbled, and another laugh came from behind.

⁂ ⁂ ⁂

It had been almost too easy. They had picked a person in a cloak, followed him, and here they were, standing in front of a pub labeled so clearly "The Leaky Cauldron."

Was it the right place? Could something so innocuous harbor something that could be so devastating? A pub for those who wanted to take over the world?  
Of course. Worse criminals have hidden in less likely places. Ed should know. He brought down many of those himself.

But what was in the pub was neither what they had been expecting or dreading. Not even close to their wildest of possibilities.

In the bluntest way possible, it was magic. Not the kind of card tricks that a street performer could do, but real, live magic. Floating objects. Pointy witch hats. People stepping out from a _fire_, unharmed.

In other words, it was something that came straight from a fairy tale.

He felt Al grip his arm.

"_Brother_." His voice was tight. "Were we – were we wrong? Could the Golden Dawn actually do _magic_?"

"I don't think it's the Golden Dawn, Al." Ed could faintly hear his own words past his racing mind. "This is too big for that."

And it was true. Other signs hadn't up either. The hats? Even the few members would have laughed if they had seen them. After all, the majority of them weren't bad, and Ed was even on good terms with several of them (like Hughes). If they really could have performed magic, wouldn't he know by now?

Or... the other possibility was that this was alchemy. Was it possible that this side of the Gate developed some sort of mutated form of it? We had thought the split between the worlds occurred at the triumph of physics over alchemy, but what if we were wrong? What if it ran so much deeper than that... A mutation of alchemy itself? A different set of laws that the universe worked under, rather than the Equivalent Exchange Ed had sought after for so long?

The thought shocked him. Equivalent Exchange... How could it be false? And yet, after all he had been through, all _Al _had been, how could it be true?

"Brother." A hand tugged on his sleeve. "We can't just stand here, staring like this."

Al's voice returned him to the present. It reminded him that there was something here they needed to learn, and to do that, they needed to _act_.

"Yeah." His voice escaped him like water past a burst dam. It betrayed the anxiety that he was feeling. Was that what it was? Anxiety?

In any case, when he sat down on the stool next to the bar counter, the nerves calmed down. He had done this before.

"Got a drink?" he asked the bartender with a grin. The balding old man looked at him suspiciously, then at Al.

"How old are you kids?" Ed's eyes widened as he realized what the man had thought he meant.

"Nothing alcoholic!" he protested, then added more sullenly, "And I'm not a kid." The bartender raised an eyebrow, but left, presumable to get drinks for us. He returned a moment later with two cups filled to the brim.

"Butterbeer," he said, as if that explained everything.

Ed looked at his cup cautiously. It was bubbly... Didn't that mean it was alcoholic? He didn't know enough about drinks to be certain.

Al had no such reservations. He brought the cup to his lips and took a sip, and immediately, his eyes widened with pleasure.

"It's good!" he exclaimed. And as Ed watched, a large grin formed on the bartender's face.

"Never had butterbeer before?" Al shook his head. "It's really a treat. My name's Tom."

"Alphonse. It's a pleasure to meet you."

"And you." The grin died a little as he turned to Ed. "What's your name, friend?" Ed noticed the change in title, and he couldn't say it didn't please him at all.

"Edward." He held out his left hand, and after a moment's hesitation, the man took it.

"So, Edward, Alphonse. What brings you here?" The man leaned his hand on the counter and spoke conversationally.

"Just looking for a drink," Ed replied smoothly. "To celebrate the occasion, you know." The man nodded, and Ed got the feeling that "the occasion" meant a lit more to Tom than it did to him. What was he missing?

"Yeah, we get a lot of business on this day," Tom said, but his eyes were looking past them. "Well, I can't stop to chat any longer. I have to go."

"See you around." Ed waved him off, but then turned to Al. "What do you think?" His little brother took a few moments, contemplating the conversation.

"I think there's something else going on here that we don't know about." Then there was a sly grin on his face, and Ed grew worried. "And... I think you should drink that." He pointedly brought the cup to his own face. Ed mimicked him, wondering what was so important about the drink.

Then he tasted his first sip, and knew.

The "butterbeer" sent a warm, comfortable feeling tingling all the way down to his toes, making even his automail ports seem to weigh less heavily on the rest of his flesh body. And the taste too. Despite the warmth, it was still fresh, like the smell of the evergreen tree we had always decorated as kids together. It had a nostalgic quality, and somehow, that made it even better.

"I have to give him one thing," Ed said, looking after Tom, who was now merrily greeting a regular over on the other side of the bar. "He really knows how to make a drink."

Al grinned.

"I told you so."


	4. Celebrations: Phase 3

A/N: Grass is blue. The sky is green. Or is it?

* * *

**Celebrations**  
Phase 3.

* * *

Further digging had told them of a bookstore, Flourish and Blotts, in a place called Diagon Alley. Tom had said if they needed his help finding it, they should just come by the pub. It seemed like everybody was intent on taking care of the Elric brothers around here.

But before they could do any more exploring, they first had to celebrate Halloween. Already, it was getting dark, and any trick-or-treaters would be disappointed if no one answered the door to give them candy, even with the finely decorated lawn.

"Maybe they'll think it really is haunted," Al joked.

Luckily though, they made it back in time before anybody decided to venture into the dangerous yard of the Elric brothers. Maybe Ed really had overdone it.

But it didn't matter. Because they were not going to simply wait for people to come knocking; they were going to go trick-or-treating themselves. First, Al dumped the candy into a bowl (a regular, yellow bowl that didn't quite match the theme of the whole yard) and a note saying not to steal all of the candy. Hopefully it would be enough.

And now, the two were left to their last-minute costume improvising.

"What should we go as?" Al asked. They were staring at an assortment of various items and other junk that had collected over the months. Not a full costume, but hopefully there was something in there they could use.

"I don't know..." Ed's eyes roved over the pile before finally settling on a bright red fabric somewhere in the depths. He grinned and pulled it out, revealing a long red coat with a flamel emblazoned on the back.

"You still have this?" he asked. Al nodded.

"It's not yours, but..." Suddenly, he got an idea. "Hey! We could dress up like we did in Amestris. You in your red cloak, and I'll try to find some pots and pans I could –" He stopped when he saw Ed holding something else up in his other hand. A familiar, battered old helmet.

"You still have it!?" Al couldn't help the exclamation of surprise. How had Ed been able to carry it around all this time? And _why_?

"I got it from the wreckage after we moved back to London," Ed explained, then grinned sheepishly. "Again, it's really not yours, but..." Al laughed.

"Neither of us are really what we were, are we?" He smirked. "But _today_, is Halloween, and we can _pretend._" Al snatched the helmet from his brother's hand and dropped it on his own head.

"See?" His voice echoed from inside the helmet. "I've got the head, but no body to go with it." He could barely see with the metal covering most of his face, but he could hear rustling fabric coming closer to him. What was Ed doing?

"Here." Al felt something being draped around his shoulders. "Now you look like a _real _knight." Curious, he lifted the helmet slightly and took a peek. There was now a long black cape billowing behind him.

He couldn't help it. He giggled.

"Brother, I thought we were going to look like our past selves?"

"Hey! It looks cool, you gotta admit that!"

"Brother..." If anything, he felt ridiculous wearing it.

"Come on, Al. It's Halloween! No need to be so uptight." And despite himself, Al did feel a grin cracking from behind the mask. Yes, he did feel ridiculous, but it was also kind of... fun.

"Alright," he said. "You win this one."

He could almost see Ed jumping up and down in glee. The sudden thuds Al could hear did nothing to contradict these imaginings.

It really was going to be a fun Halloween.

⁂ ⁂ ⁂

Soon, they were out the door, costumes ready and candy buckets in hand. Ed had somehow fixed the helmet so that he could actually see (and the helmet was now suspiciously padded with something that felt like one of his pillows; he'd have to get Ed back for that) and now held a flashlight in hand so that his efforts would not have gone to waste. But on this side of the Gate with all its advanced technology, the flashlight was not just a commodity, it was a necessary precaution. Even for the two brothers, the danger of cars was too much to ignore.

But Halloween wasn't a day for worries. Halloween was meant for _candy_.

The first house they visited was a stranger's. Right after the first knock the door swung open and an elderly woman armed with a bowl of candy emerged.

"And what are you two supposed to be?" she had asked once the traditional trick-or-treatings had been exchanged.

"An alchemist and a knight," Ed answered proudly. She raised an eyebrow at Ed's costume but nevertheless accepted it.

"Well, have a happy Halloween!" she said as the two began walking away.

"You too!" Al called back. For a moment, neither of them spoke. And then...

"Why did she look so incredulous that I'm dressed up as an alchemist!?" Ed exclaimed.

"And me..." Al couldn't help adding. "I'm not dressed up at a _knight_!" Ed snorted.

"Come on, Al. What else could you be?" For a moment, Al stared at him in shock.

"You know what I am!"

"Yeah? And so do I!"

...

It took a moment of Al trying to figure that out before he gave up.

"How does that even make sense?" he said finally. He could almost sense the blush on Brother's cheeks.

"It – Of course it does! I know what I am too, and..." He gave up and sighed. "You know what, nevermind. Let's just get to the next house."

By the time they were done with Halloween, both their buckets were full to the brim. Ed though, had been mercilessly teased the whole time. After all, how did flinging on one red cloak make on an alchemist?

It was a question that, for the rest of the night, sent Ed into a rage almost like whenever he'd been called short.

⁂ ⁂ ⁂

"Hey, Brother?" Al was curled up in a snug arm chair next to the fireplace, and his words were accompanies by a yawn.

"Yeah, Al?"

"You know, all we need now is a cat and it's be perfect..." There was the sound of a chair tipping over and the pleasant knowledge of having annoyed an older brother successfully.

"Al! For the last time, we're not getting a cat!"

And Al was able to fall asleep with one last smirk on his face.


	5. Muggle Trouble: Phase 4

A/N: For us, the candy bowl thing worked because nobody ever climbs up our giant hill. So I never had to worry about someone stealing the whole thing hehe. Thanks for reviewing! I just did a whole bunch of planning, though it comes in a little later, so that's always good.

Did you know that it's a theory that Madam Pince (Hogwarts Librarian) is Eilleen Prince? As in, Snape's Mom? Interesting what you can find on the internet. And by the way, something no one seems to realize in FMA/HP fanfics, yes Alchemy is actually a class taught in Hogwarts. I quote from the HP wiki (which admittedly isn't 100% reliable): "If there is enough demand, Alchemy is an optional subject taught at Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry to sixth and seventh-years." _And_, Ed and Lupin aren't the only one with "yellow" eyes. Madam Hooch has that too. So, yeah. That's just something interesting. By the way, anything about Tom or other side characters that come in later is probably not canon.

I'm absolutely terrible with this weekly update thing. Not that I'm having trouble meeting the deadline – it's that after I write the chapter I really want to publish it soon. So instead of waiting until tomorrow, since my planned day is Saturday, I'm posting today... I'm really not sure what day of the week it'll end up being.

* * *

**Muggle Trouble  
**Phase 4.

* * *

Ten masterpieces stood before him. Ten figurines made out of dirt, depicting every Halloween horror imaginable: ghouls, ghosts, zombies, haunted graves. Ten works of art that made him swell with pride and thing: _I made this. I made this without alchemy._

And today, he was going to destroy them.

Oh, he had begged Al, _begged _him, that they could just keep them there, because the lawn looked so much better now anyway. Before, it was just plain green grass, undecorated. Now, it was beautiful. Why would Al want to destroy something like this?

Yet his little brother had not succumbed to his pleas. The dirt-statues would go, he said, claiming the landlady would make them pay a fortune if she ever saw them.

That argument was the sole reason Ed was even considering destroying them. That, and his little brother could be very persistent when he wanted to be.

He tried one last time. "Please, Al? Please can we keep them here for just one more day?" But Al's mouth was set in a firm line as he handed over a shovel.

"Brother." His tone, too, brooked no argument. "Take it." And reluctantly, ever so reluctantly, Ed took the shovel into his own gloved hand.

"Fine, fine," he said at last. "But you're helping, right?" Al loosened into a victorious grin, and Ed felt the deep disappointment of having given into his little brother so easily. It happened ever time.

"Yeah. But first –" he held up a hand, containing something much smaller than a shovel, something meant for – "we need to scrape off the paint."

Ed groaned. How did Al always come up with these torture devices?

It was tiring work. His little brother insisted on getting off every damn _scrap _of paint ("They have toxic chemicals in them!") before doing the actual work of smashing the statues back into dirt. It made Ed grouchy and snappish, but he took vicious satisfaction in that sometime, he would get Al back for this. Someday. He _knew _Al was only doing this to annoy him. A little paint mixed in with dirt wouldn't do anybody any harm._  
_

However, if that part was bad, it was nothing compared to the dismay Ed felt at the prospect of crushing the statutes he had worked on so meticulously. Was this another part of Al's evil plans? No matter what Al's intentions were, this part of the process of cleaning up the lawn took up more time than expected. After all, Ed had to spare a few moments of silence to respect those works of art that had been lost that day. And mentally prepare himself before destroying another statue. It was emotionally exhausting work (and the fault of one certain twelve-year-old, Ed didn't fail to point out with a glare).

The last and final step was to replace the grass. In this world, there were stores that actually sold rolls of it, and Ed was hoping they could find some at the big hardware store nearby, HomeBase. Unfortunately, his little brother was right on this point; the landlady probably would freak if she came by one day to see her lawn missing.

However, by the time they were finished flattening the lawn, Ed was _starving._

"Al..." he complained. "I'm hungry." His stomach let out a convincing growl. Al frowned.

"Wouldn't it be better if we finished this up first?"

_Gr-r-ow-wl._

His stomach did all the answering for him.

"Well... I guess we could stop by for something on the way to HomeBase," Al proposed. A moment later, his face brightened. "Hey! I think the Leaky Cauldron is on the way." Ed perked up.

"The Leaky Cauldron, huh? I guess that kills three birds with one stone."

"_But_ –" Al pointed his paint scraper at Ed threateningly, "we need to clean up before that." Ed rolled his eyes.

"Yeah, yeah." Al had gotten so nitpicky after they ended up in this world. What was a little bit of dirt smudged there, or some machine oil spilled on his coat? Nobody would notice.

But just like always, he gave into his little brother's demands. And so, less than thirty minutes later, an exceptionally clean duo of brothers stood in front of the Leaky Cauldron.

Ed opened the door to the sound of a small jingle, low muttering, and dishes clanking. The pub wasn't as busy as the time before; instead, it felt more relaxed. Welcoming even.

"Hey, you two!" the balding man at the counter greeted. "Come back so soon? Looking for another drink?" Ed slid into a stool by the counter, Al following right behind him, and gave the man a grin.

"No, we were actually looking for a meal this time around. What do you have?" Tom shrugged.

"Not many choices for lunch. Mostly people come over for a drink, but we do have some snacks. Cakes, icecream, perhaps some omelets." But Ed had brightened at the prospect of icecream.

"What flavors of icecream do you – ow! Al, what did you do that for?" he held his side protectively after Al had elbowed him.

"What Brother _means_," Al said, "is that he'll like an omelet." Ed's eyes widened.

"An omelet? But... Al!" I wanted –" A laugh interrupted their argument.

"Usually it's the younger one who's asking for the icecream," Tom remarked, and Ed glared at him. "But I think Alphonse is right. Omelets go better as lunch." By the end, Ed's mouth was gaping wide open. Why did everybody take Al's side?

"But –" he managed before Al turned on him again.

"_Brother._" Damn it, Al was now giving him the puppy eyes. Why did he always give him the puppy eyes?

Ed sighed. "Fine, fine." It was yet another victory for his little brother.

"Omelet coming right up," Tom said as he left to the kitchen, rubbing even more salt into the wound.

He really needed to figure out how to beat Al.

⁂ ⁂ ⁂

Tom smiled as he watched the two brothers through the glass as he fried the omelet. He was old, and it was refreshing to have two youngsters like them come by. And they weren't like all those other teens in these times, snotty and rude, but rather... friendly. Yes, the older one wasn't as respectful as he could be, but the younger's sweet gentleness made up for that easily. And if he was reading into this right, the brothers cared for each other very much.

It made him think of his own family. Most of them were gone by now, but he had precious memories of his twin brother and their sweet little sister. Oh, they had fun in those days, teasing her while they went off to hang out with their friends from Hogwarts. Tom and his brother had been close, just like these two boys, and had run the pub together when they successfully took over after the Charing Cross Road incident.

Tom chuckled at the thought. Yes, those had been the good times. No one would stand for the pub being demolished for a muggle _road_, and after dozens of memory charms and confused architects, they had managed to save it. The ministry had tried to convince them it was a lost cause, but here they were.

And it had all been worth it to see those architect's faces as they wondered how their design plans had gone so wrong.

He wondered if these two boys had any such adventures. He had seen them when they came into his pub, nervous and obviously shocked at the display of magic. Yet, the moment the older spoke to him, he had been so cocky, almost to the point that he had mistakenly labeled him as one of the snotty brats.

Almost.

It had been the looks on their faces as they entered that stuck with him. They weren't from around here, that much was clear. But how far away was "away"?

Were they even from the Wizarding World?

This question was the reason he hadn't mentioned the two boys to anyone yet. He knew what was expected of him if he suspected muggles had somehow wandered in here. He _knew_, but he was also sure he would not obliviate them. If they were muggles, so be it. The pub had a long-standing tradition of welcoming anybody into its fold. And besides, they must have had some kind of magical talent if they could see the place, much less enter it. So it wouldn't be like he was knowingly breaking the "Statute of Wizarding Secrecy."

He smiled. No, he wouldn't be the one to turn them in, even if they were muggles.

A few moments later, the eggs were fried and he was making his way back to the two brothers. He neatly slid the hot omelet into a waiting plate, picked up two forks, and dropped it all in front of them with a flourish.

"Two omelets served." They thanked him, but he waved it off easily. "There's nothing I won't do to gain two good customers like you two." The older boy raised an eyebrow.

"_Good _customers?" he asked questioningly. Tom chuckled.

"Well, you all pay the same, don't you?" It was only half of the truth, but worked well enough in the situation. Saying he felt he could relate to them would only sound creepy.

However, instead of putting Edward at ease, his response seemed to agitate him. The teen's eyes widened and he bolted from his chair, as if coming to a sudden realization.

"I forgot to pay you last time!" he blurted out, before a hand began frantically searching his coat pockets. "Can I –" He stopped when he saw Alphonse, holding a thick wallet. "Hey, how come you have that, Al?"

"You gave it to me. Remember? You said that I was more responsible and –" Ed's face was flushed pink as he snatched the wallet back.

"I'm responsible!" he protested, before turning back to Tom. "Erm... Anyway, how much do I owe you?" Before Tom could stop him, he pulled out a ten pound note. "Is this enough?"

Really, it was only ironic that right after Tom had made the commitment to not turn them in, they would do _this _to him.

As quickly as he could, he snatched the bill from the boy's hand. He realized his mistake when he saw their shocked expressions, but tried to rectify it with faster actions.

"What are you doing?" he whispered harshly, trying to get them to understand. "You can't just walk around handing out _muggle _money." Their confused faces said it all. He had been right. They were muggles.

"Listen," he stared, then paused, his eyes roving past them over to his other customers. Many were already looking curiously at the bar. It was less packed since it was only about noon, but that would only make this odd event even more interesting. People would talk.

So he turned away and tersely told the two, "Follow me." After a moment of hesitation, they trailed after him, to another room where nobody should be able to hear. However, as soon as the door shut with a nice _click_, the silence erupted into angry questions.

"What the hell was that for?" Edward asked. It took Tom a moment to realize what he was talking about before he returned the crumpled bill from his clenched hand. He took a deep breath.

"You're muggles." Somehow, it was all he could find words to say.

"What's a muggle?" Alphonse asked. However, now that Tom looked at him again, he didn't seem to be the sweet little kid he had been only moments earlier. No, it wasn't that Tom had suddenly learned the kid was a muggle, but rather... he seemed older, somehow. Older than he had any right to be at that age.

Tom almost shivered, but instead brought himself to answer the question.

"Muggles are non-magical folk." It was the shocked response that surprised the old barkeeper even more.

"You mean... not everybody can do magic?" Edward said disbelievingly. "But... that doesn't make any sense!" Tom frowned. As far as he knew, that was not the common reaction to magic. Nevertheless, he continued his explanation.

"Yes, that's right. And because of this, the International Statute of Wizarding Secrecy was created. Muggles can't know about the Wizard World, or something like the witch trials might happen again."

The look on Edward's face was suspicious. "And you're telling us this why?"

"So you'll be more careful," Tom answered shortly. "Don't try giving wizards muggle money again. It makes them look down on you and they won't accept it."

"But –" Alphonse's eyes were wide when he spoke. "They're discriminating against people just because they didn't know about magic?"

Tom sighed. Truly, he was too old for this.

"Yes, that's the way it is. Now, listen, there's a bank called Gringotts in Diagon Alley where you can convert those pounds into galleons. And," he continued before they could ask more questions, "You can get to Diagon Alley by going through the back and tapping the bricks in a counterclockwise order. _Then _you can pay me back, and get your books. Alright?" He sighed in relief when the two nodded. He had done his part. They'd be fine.

"Then let's go back and you can finish your omelet."

It felt strange walking back into the pub, where many curiosity eyes were still watching the door as they came back in. The three of the walked stiffly, silently, and it only added to the discomfort churning in Tom's guy. Even after they had left, he was still wondering.

"H-Hello, T-T-Tom." He was startled from his thoughts by a stuttering Quirnus Quirrell. He had been a regular before he had gone to Albania, and still was, but that place had changed him. Damaged him. Tom felt the brief feeling of pity for the man. He heard he was going to be the Defense Against the Dark Arts teacher in Hogwarts this year; that was going to be hard for him.

"What can I do for you, Quirnus?" he asked casually, letting no sign of pity show on his face. Customers tended to dislike that.

"M-May I ask... Who were those – those two boys?" Inwardly, Tom let out a small groan. He had hoped no one would ask. But he had a friendly smile plastered on his face, and he had to keep up the facade.

"Just some new customers, Quirnus. Nothing you need to worry about."


	6. Hidden Knowledge: Phase 5

A/N: So, I was looking at the follower/favorite stats... Holy crap. 68 follows. That's over 50. Thank you for reading my story, despite at the glacial pace it's going!

Well, things are picking up right here, so glacial pace no longer. There's an actual plot! Surprise! And, merry Christmas! (Did you know that Merlin was originally a Slytherin? And that before the 6th book of HP came out, people thought Zabini was a girl? Sorry, spouting out interesting facts I'm learning from browsing through the HP wiki and Pottermore website up here... I wish real World History was as interesting as the HP world's history, but don't we all. Seriously though, merry Christmas. :) )

* * *

**Hidden Knowledge**  
Phase 5.

* * *

_"Alchemists be thou for the people", huh? It's just like back in Amestris. Those with power shirking their duties... _Ed closed his eyes and sighed, leaning back into the armchair back in their house. No, here it was even worse. Here, the wizards would erase the very memory of anybody who found out about their power.

It made him sick. It always had, watching those who could abuse others do so, just for the sake of some kind of twisted enjoyment. Whether in Amestris, here, anywhere, it was all the same. Just because these people were "wizards" and had "magic" didn't make them better than everybody else.

The saving grace was that not everybody thought this way. From what he had gathered, many wizards were "muggle-born" – born from nonmagical parents. If that was so, they all couldn't be that bad.

"Brother?" He didn't have to open his eyes to know it was Al.

"Yeah?" He knew he sounded too tired, that now Al would only worry about him. He knew he should try to act cheerful, but he just couldn't.

It had been a long day, and they hadn't even fixed the lawn yet.

"What do you think we should do?" To his surprise, Al was just as resigned, just as tired. Of course. Why did he only think about himself? Al had been right there with him.

After they had left Tom, the two had gone out to explore Diagon Alley. First, they had exchanged their fifty pound note for a bag containing a mixture of gold, silver, and bronze coins in Gringotts. After that, it had been pure and simple fun, poking around and discovering new things. They had stopped at the bookstore, Flourish and Blotts, and gotten a few books they hoped would tell them more about magic. Everything was going fine, and they were looking forward to investigating magic more deeply.

That is, until they encountered the so-called-"pureblood." Ed scowled at the thought. Blaise Zabini. A thoroughly bred, snotty brat. And he had walked up to them outright and _told them to polish his shoes because they were obviously muggle-lovers and __he was _obviously _much better than them _–

It made Ed want to knock his teeth out. A return to the good old days.

But he was older now, and he knew more than he had back then. It wouldn't have changed anything, other than getting the two brothers into trouble. Besides, Tom had warned them what would happen if anyone discovered they were muggles. Only bad things would happen by bringing attention to themselves.

Ed sighed and opened his eyes to look at Al. Maybe they couldn't use the old methods, but there _had _to be something they could do to change this world. They couldn't just sit back and watch.

"We have to _do_ something, Al." Now, the frustration was clear in his voice. Not the dull response Al had gotten only moments earlier. "It's not right what these people are doing. I don't care if they're wizards or what, it's just not right."

"How though?" his little brother pleaded. "_How _are we going to fix this? We didn't even know about magic until yesterday, so how are _we _going to be able to do anything?"

It left Ed staring at him in shock. He was right. Simply resolving to fix things didn't give them the power to change the world. Even if they did come from across the Gate, even if they knew alchemy and were geniuses for their age, they were still human. They couldn't do everything.

And besides, they had enough problems of their own that came with living in this world.

Ed grit his teeth together. No, now wasn't the time to think about _those_. If he was lucky, they wouldn't ever have to deal with that again.

"I don't know, Al." His throat suddenly felt dry and he coughed, averting his eyes from his little brother's face. "I guess we'll just have to figure it out step by step."

Al couldn't know, could he? No, he would've said something by now if he did.

"Brother, what –" And as if by some kind of miracle, Ed's eyes latched onto a pile of books. The books they had gotten today from Flourish and Blotts.

"Hey, look, Al!" Ed quickly snatched one of them from the top of the bag and turned it over to read the cover. "_Magical Theory_. We can start here, right?" Al frowned, and Ed knew his little brother could tell he was hiding something. And yet, he also knew Al wouldn't make a big deal out of it. They trusted each other. If Ed was keeping a secret, then Al knew there was probably some kind of reason for it.

"Yeah." He could tell the smile on Al's face was forced and he hated himself for it. Why _now_, why now of all times, did he have to think about it? "I guess we have to learn about something before we can change anything about it." Al carefully selected a book from the bag. "I'll start here, and you start with that, okay?" He gestured to the book Ed was holding in his hands.

"Okay."

But he had the strong feeling everything was _not _okay.

⁂ ⁂ ⁂

Al watched his older brother carefully, even as he flipped the pages of his book and mutely absorbed the information on them. Normally, he'd be engrossed, finally learning the answers to the questions that had plagued them since yesterday, but now he couldn't muster the excitement he had only hours earlier, when they had been enjoying themselves in Diagon Alley.

What was Brother trying to hide from him? He couldn't help but be reminded of that incident after Lab 5 back in Amestris. He had thought Ed's secret was that Al wasn't real at all, instead only an artificial soul bound to a suit of armor. But no, what he had really wanted to ask was if Al _hated _him.

No. Al could never hate him. Ed should've known that.

But now, Al was worried. He knew it wasn't the same problem now – he had reassured Ed too many times about that already – so what was bothering him? Why was he trying to hide it now? Was it something to do with this "magic"?

Al wished Ed would only tell him what was going on. It could only make things easier for them.

"Al?" He realized he had been staring.

"Sorry." That's right; he had his own part to play in this act. "I'll go back to reading."

And this time, he did. He honestly put him mind to the words on the page, searching them for any helpful information. After all, if Brother wasn't going to share, it was unlikely being stuck thinking about it would help any.

But now, now that he actually processed the words he was reading, his eyes grew wider and wider with shock.

"Brother! Come look at this!" Immediately, Ed leapt up from his cozy armchair over to Al. His eyebrows furrowed as he read the passage Al had his finger at.

"_Transfiguration is a branch of magic involving the change of one material or object to something else,_" Ed mumbled as he read, and then frowned. "But, Al, isn't this like..."

"Read on." He rolled his eyes.

"All right. _Four__ different branches exist: Transformation, Vanishment, Conjuration, and..._" His eyes widened as he processed what he had just said. "Wait, but that can't be right. Conjuration... That would break all the laws – of Equivalent Exchange _and _conservation of mass. It's impossible to create something out of nothing!"

"Unless it's not really nothing?" Al suggested. "What if they just _think _it's from nothing when they're really transmuting air into these objects?" Ed frowned.

"It's possible, but..." His eyes strayed over to the armchair, where the other book, _Magical Theory_, was still resting. "You know how the Philosopher's Stone could ignore Equivalent Exchange?" Al raised a skeptical eyebrow.

"And? They can't _all _have one. If they did, then..." Then there wouldn't be anybody left. The Philosopher's Stone required too much sacrifice for that theory.

"No, you're right. They can't all have Stones." Al looked up at him in surprise, furrowing his eyebrows as he tried to figure out what Ed was implicating.

"So you're saying that there's some other kind of amplifier they're using?" Ed's grin was enough to confirm it.

"Exactly. Did you notice any of those sticks all those people had?" Al though back. Now that Ed mentioned it, he could recall seeing seemingly out-of-place sticks in both back pockets and hands, carried by both the young and old.

"Well, get this, Al. They're _wands_."

"Wands?" he repeated dizzily. "Like from all those storied about magic Mom told us." His grin faltered for a moment at _her _name, but a moment later, it was back in full force.

"Exactly, Al. And we're going to get some."


	7. A Lack of Tact: Phase 6

A/N: Sorry, this chapter's late. For me, it's already Sunday, since it's past midnight, and I decided to finish this up for some odd reason right at this moment, right now. So here, a day and a half late, is chapter 7/6... Well my chapter numberings are weird, so I don't even know... I also realized I made a mistake with their ages. Ed is 19. Al is 13. I think I had it as 18 and 12, but I fixed it now.

_reply to db:_ I think the statue of dead muggles was built after Voldemort came into power again. And you mean if they discovered on the internet about the whole magic thing? It's an interesting idea, but not quite what I was planning. And yes, definitely Ed being Ed in the face of the Wizarding World.

Happy holidays!

* * *

**A Lack of Tact**  
Phase 6.

* * *

"Hello!" Ed greeted cheerily before he fell into the stool by the bar counter. Al was right behind him, except slightly more respectful, even inquiring after Tom's morning so far.

The bartender chuckled in response. "Fine, fine. You missed the main business hours again." He raised an eyebrow. "How was it yesterday? You didn't get into too much trouble, I hope?" Al hesitated. He didn't want to lie and say everything had gone completely fine, but he also didn't want to –

"There was some 'pure-blood' kid who bothered us," Ed said nonchalantly, "but we dealt with him okay."

– worry him.

... Unfortunately, Brother did not have the kind of tact to even realize what effect his words would have on Tom.

"We only talked with him," Al said quickly. "He called us 'muggle-lovers', probably because of our clothes, nothing else." The already-raised eyebrow did not lower at his hurried explanation.

"I see." The man sighed and set down the cup he'd been cleaning and reached for the next. "Well, do you have any plans for today? Which wouldn't require an early retirement for poor old me?" He said the last part with a crooked smile.

"We were going to get wands."

Tom froze.

"_Wands _– but – you can't!"

"And why not?" Ed had that arrogant smirk on his face. "How do you know if we aren't able to do magic?" Tom blinked.

"I... suppose that's possible," he finally said after a long pause. Then he added as an afterthought, "Since you were able to find this place anyway."

"Is there something that stops regular people from seeing it?" Al asked curiously. Tom nodded. That would disprove another theory that he had been thinking, that maybe it was possible for everybody to use magic and only some people were tested in the first place.

"Ever since the Statute of Secrecy was passed. Say, would you mind giving a hand with these dishes? It's been busy around here the past few nights, and they just keep on stacking up."

"You hand wash them?" Al asked, surprised. Somehow, he didn't expect this return to familiarity in this world of strange technology and apparently, magic. Didn't the wizards have some way of their own to advance convenience?

But Tom only smiled.

"I'm an old man. Many wizards now whip out their wands for everything, but I appreciate the value of moving at least once in a while. What do you say, youngsters? Are you feeling up to it?"

They laughed and easily agreed. It wasn't strange work to them – this was how it had always been back in Amestris – and they were able to efficiently cut through the tower of dishes that had been hidden in the back room. It was calming work. It reminded Al of home.

But this time, he could feel the cool plate in his hands. The rush of water as it caressed his skin. Even the slight pruning of his hands. And almost best of all, he didn't have to worry about accidentally breaking the dishes, if he was unknowingly exerting a little too much force on them. He remembered what it was like, having to tiptoe around every object because he was afraid he might break it.

... Brother still had to deal with that.

Al was already free. Al had his human body back. And yet Brother was still missing his two limbs. _He _must have been still worrying, even now, that his right hand might break the plate he was trying to clean.

But it was also something Ed had already accepted. That arm that Winry had made so meticulously, that was part of him now. It was his own limb, not quite flesh and blood, but still _his._

Al smiled.

"It's been a while since we've done this," he noted. Ed didn't fail to respond.

"Yeah. We've been getting lazy.. The machines they have here are too convenient." But his grin fell slightly when his golden eyes flickered over to Tom, still in hearing range, before his full attention focused back on Al. "Wanna spar sometime? It'd be good for us." Al raised an eyebrow.

"Oh? Are you admitting you're out of shape?"

"Hey, you are too!" Then he chuckled ruefully. "If Teacher saw us, she'd kill us."

That startled Al more than anything.

That's right. Of course. Al had never told him. It just never seemed to be the right time.

He bit his lip and looked away.

"Ed..."

"Yeah, Al?" He could hear the worry in his voice.

"Teacher's... gone. She passed away a few years ago." There was a _crack_, and Al knew that this time, Ed hadn't succeeded in restraining the strength of his automail arm.

"She's... gone?" His voice had all of the horrified disbelief that Al had hoped he would never have to hear again.

"Brother, I –" His throat choked with something that felt like guilt, and suddenly, he was all too aware of the third presence that had been doing its best to not intrude. He shouldn't have told him here. It was wrong, when somebody else, practically a stranger, could too easily intrude. And in any case, it would've been better not to talk about their world in front of Tom. It was one of their rules: _do not mention our world to anybody we don't trust._

It was a necessary precaution. After all, the last time somehow had learned about it, there had been a war.

"Sorry, Tom." Al forced a bright smile on his face. "Is it okay if we leave the rest up to you?" He looked surprised, but also understanding.

"Sure. You've been a great help. Thanks."

"Thank you." Al hesitated. Should he still ask, even after this? Yes, they had come here for a reason. "Would you know where we could get wands?"

"Ollivander's, also in Diagon Alley. Just be careful, all right?" He looked like he wanted to say something more, probably about them not revealing they were muggles, but held it in.

"We will. Thanks again."

Ed was silent until they left the pub.

"Sorry, Al." He smirked, but Al could tell it was fake. "I should've seen that coming, huh? I shouldn't have expected her to live forever, she –" His words suddenly cut off.

"Brother..." But Al too oddly found himself without anything to say. What was there to say? They knew each other well enough to not have to use words. Ed understood how he felt. All they could do now was move on with their goal.

And so it was that they stumbled into Ollivander's, already worn out despite the early hour, but also determined to get what they came for.

"Good morning," Al greeted the man who was sorting boxes around the shop. He whirled around, obviously surprised.

"Good morning," he replied, then looking at Al curiously, "Shouldn't you still be at Hogwarts?"

Now, Al was the one who was startled. Pig warts? What did that have anything to do with him? But he was saved from answering by Ed's brusqueness.

"We're here for wands," he said, and the man frowned, evidently displeased at not having his question answered. Nevertheless, he grabbed the measuring tape from a nearby counter and approached the two brothers.

"I see. Did you perhaps have a wand before or are you simply late in acquiring one?" He was looking straight at Al.

"Erm... no. I've never had a wand before." An eyebrow quirked up.

"Oh? Now that's interesting. Are you perhaps from... outside of England? I understand they may have different policies there." Both Al and Ed tensed. It was almost as if... no, that was impossible. No one else should know about their world. They just _couldn't_.

So a moment later, Al relaxed and nodded his head.

"Yeah, we come from out of England." It was an easy lie. Their accents were slightly different, more American if anything, so it was also a believable one. And it seemed to satisfy the man, as he nodded, his frown even lightening up to a soft smile.

"I see. Which is your wand arm?" Al almost lifted his right hand, but stopped him. It was easy to guess what he meant; after all, the wizards _obviously _had another word for "dominant hand" in this odd world of magic. However, before he would do anyone, he had to be certain this was who he thought it was.

"Excuse me, but, who exactly are you?" Not the most tactful way, but better than if Brother had butt in.

The man's eyes registered surprise.

"Garrick Ollivander. Though..." The frown returned. "I would think you would have known that, since you came here?" It was obviously a bait for more information, but Al didn't take it, opting for silence. A moment later, the wand maker shook his head and again asked for Al's wand hand.

This time, he gave it.

Apparently, the search for a wand required much more precision than simply picking one and leaving with it. First Al was measured in every spot ("Why are you measuring between my _nostrils_?" when he really wanted to ask _how in the world is that tape measurer moving on it's own?_, but he was polite and only kept his questions in mind for later, when Brother and him would be doing more research), and Ollivander gave him wand after wand, telling him to "give them a swish" only to be disappointed when nothing happened. It worried him at first, since they weren't entirely certain if they _could _do magic at all, but the wandmaker didn't seem to have caught on even after multiple failures.

But finally, there was a reaction with one of them – 13 inches, unyielding alder wood with a unicorn tail hair core – and Ollivander gave him a strange look.

"Curious... I didn't think someone like you would earn a wand so... optimistic." He felt his cheeks turn red, and he wasn't sure if it was from the slanted praise, the embarrassment, or indignation at what Ollivander's impression of him must have been.

"That would be seven galleons," the man said, effectively dismissing them.

"Excuse me, Mr. Ollivander." Ed's voice was tight. "I also need a wand."

For what must have been the tenth time that day, the wandmaker's eyes widened in surprise.

"You as well? But – " He visibly took a deep breath and calmed down. "How old are you, Mister..." All of the sudden, he looked uncertain. Of course. He had gone this whole trip so far without so much as knowing their names.

"Edward. My name is Edward. And I'm nineteen."

"And you have never had a wand before now?"

Ed nodded stubbornly.

Ollivander sighed.

"I see. Wand arm?" Mutely, Ed lifted his left arm, and the tape measurer got to work, and so did Ollivander.

Al should've been angry. Or even worried at how badly this was going. But instead, he was feeling the warm coals of pride. Pride that Ed _hadn't _snapped at the man, or punched him in the face, or anything like that. That he was actually being relatively _polite _and that was enough to stir this warm feeling in him –

And then somehow, it all went wrong.

"Is something wrong with your right arm?" Ollivander asked bluntly after a few wands had already been tried. Al could see how Ed immediately tried to hide his surprise, but he could also see how he instinctively held his automail closer to his body, as if protecting it. It was probably enough for the observant man to see he was spot on.

"No," Ed growled. "Why do you think that?"

"It moves oddly. Too stiff." At that moment, he gave Ed another wand, effectively cutting off conversation. "Here. 14 inches, resilient fire wood with dragon heartstring core." Reluctantly, Ed took it and gave it a swish.

The reaction was immediate, small smarks erupting from the tip of the wand. Al let out a quiet sigh of relief. It seemed that they both were able to perform magic.

"Interesting..." Ollivander's eyes were narrowed. "The survivor's wand. I must say, you two do not give off the best impressions, yet some of the more interesting wands in my stock choose you. Well, that would be fifteen galleons please."

They paid the price, grimacing as their pile of wizarding money diminished further. They would have to restock again soon.

But now they were closer in their goal of understanding magic. Now they could do more practical tests, even try the magic that so confused them. See if it was similar to alchemy in any way, or if it followed the same laws. If not, theorize theorize theorize, and research research research.

It was the answer to everything.

Ed was not so optimistic.

"Al," he grumbled the moment they were out of the shop. "Let's do that sparring match you promised me when we get back." Al was surprised; he had thought Ed would want to do some research first, but...

"Sure." He had probably been the one to put Brother into such a bad mood, breaking the news when it was already far too late and not the right time or place.

Besides, they really were out of practice.


	8. Cracked Plate: Phase 7

A/N: Seriously, you people are so nice. And so, I finished this chapter up early and posted it. I _think _I'll still be able to write the next chapter too by Friday or Saturday, but I have Allstate auditions with my clarinet on Saturday, so I really need to practice. But really, thank you all!

Also, I forgot to mention, when Ollivander said Ed's wand is "the survivor's wand," I didn't mean that wand in particular, that applies for any wands made of that wood. Al's is so "optimistic," as Ollivander so eloquently put it, because it serves as a nice foil. But if I talk much more up here about this, then I'll end up giving spoilers, and obviously, every good writer doesn't do that. Hehe.

If anyone wants to know the specific descriptions that are on Pottermore about the wand woods and the wand cores, I can put it up here or send you a PM.

_reply to Guest:_ Thanks :) And yes, they do know of the Shamballah incident, though it isn't quite history because in this story, it was just last year. However, they don't know all of the details, or even about the other world, so it doesn't seem to be such a big deal for them.

* * *

**Cracked Plate**  
Phase 7.

* * *

Somewhere, just down the street and to the left, there were two boys sparring in the backyard, eagerly stretching their limbs after many months of inactivity, laughing as inevitably, the younger would win yet again.

Tom stared at the cracked plate.

Two boys who had seemed so happy, so caring for one another...

And yet, undisguised tension when the younger had noticed Tom still in the room. As if he was a complete stranger. A weight of sorrow around them, as if they had seen far too much sorrow than they should've at that age. The uncanniness of earlier, when Alphonse had spoken with a voice older than he was.

And a cracked plate.

He hadn't noticed it until after they had left, when he began working on the dishes that they earlier had been scrubbing. It was then that he found this plate, almost split into two, lying meekly in the sink as if it had seen unspeakable horrors.

But why was it even there? He knew the two boys didn't have bad intentions. He was sure of it. So why would there be a broken dish in his sink right after they had helped him clean his dishes? It just didn't make sense.

He sighed and set the mystery aside for now, instead opting to continue his own work. Business was starting up again; it was nearing the later hours, when all the regulars and newcomers and everybody would be there. It was time to work, and he couldn't simply drop it to wonder about a cracked plate and two boys he had already resolved to protect...

So he only added it to the growing pile of questions about the Elric brothers, and then moved on.

⁂ ⁂ ⁂

Oftentimes, life holds many victories as a surprise, so that the joy will even be greater. A victory despite all the odds, defiance among the times when hope seems least. It is for this that we yearn for, hope for –

Edward Elric did not win in the face of countless defeats. He only lost yet again, another terrible victory to his younger brother.

"I thought you would be out of practice!" he groaned he walked, favoring one side. It had been a fairly spectacular defeat this time, and he suspected that while his own reflexes has died down, Al had still been honing his.

"Should I be?" his little brother replied, a little too smugly. Ed huffed.

"Of course. It's not like you've been practicing in secret or anything…" His eyebrow raised, a teasing gleam in his eyes. "Or have you?"

Al grinned and didn't say anything.

Ed took that as a yes, he definitely had.

"When?" he demanded. The obnoxious grin did not leave, and Ed sighed in defeat. "Fine, fine. Keep your secrets." There was a slight tensing up at that, but they both tried their best to ignore it. Ed was glad for that; if Al had tried to press him so soon after discovering… that, he wasn't sure what he would do.

"So," he said conversationally as he held open the back door graciously for Al, just like the perfect gentleman he was, "Wands."

"Wands," Al agreed, and almost as if on cue, they both took out the sticks that they had been carrying.

Ed looked at his own curiously, even as he closed the door behind him. It seemed like regular wood… expected weight for its size, trademark wooden patterns running through it. Without alchemy, he couldn't confirm it, but all of it's chemical properties seemed to match with his observations. Just a regular piece of wood, with perhaps something inside.

No, what was truly strange about it was the feeling he got as he held it. Not quite the rush of alchemy, where you knew the intrinsic inner workings of anything you touched, but rather… a warmth. A strange flow of electricity, of energy, coursing through the wood. As if he could do anything.

It made Ed distinctly uncomfortable.

"Do you… feel anything, Al?" he finally asked, looking over at Al's face screwed up in concentration. When he spoke, he relaxed and his eyes opened.

"Not like alchemy. It's different. But there definitely is something there, so you're probably right about the wands being some kind of amplifier." Ed nodded.

"But we can't be absolutely certain of that yet. If that were true, then why doesn't alchemy work in this world? And how were these 'wands' created anyway? And…" he paused. "Why the heck do unicorns and dragons exist?"

His little brother burst out laughing.

"It's not funny, Al!" he protested, but there was a smile on his own face too.

"Brother," Al said, almost chiddingly, "You're the one who said we shouldn't jump to conclusions. Just because our wands apparently have a 'core' in them from a unicorn or a dragon, doesn't mean that they actually exist. It could just be a name for something else." Ed shrugged.

"Remember Envy? In this world, he was in the shape of a dragon. So it is possible."

"But that's different," Al protested. "Envy's from our world." Again, Ed shrugged.

"The Golden Dawn didn't seem too surprised at seeing him."

"But they were looking for him. They would've already known that he existed!"

"Yeah, yeah." Ed yawned. "All I'm saying is that it's a possibility." He turned away and opened the fridge before Al could say anything else. "Want some lemonade?"

"Brother –" But for some reason, he didn't continue, and when Ed turned to look back at him, there was once again a smile playing on his face. "Are you sure you don't want milk?"

Ed blanched.

"Al!"

"I'm joking." He walked over to the fridge himself and took out a jug of milk, pointedly pouring it into his own glass. "But it is good for you."

"What – where did you even get that? I know I didn't buy it!"

"Come on, Ed. I'm practically the one who feeds us anyway. It's not like you bother with cooking anyway."

"I perfectly well know how to cook. It's only the process of mixing everything together where it messes up," he denied cheerfully. But somehow, Al's remark had cut a little too close. Shouldn't he be doing more to take care of his little brother? It was just like…

He pushed the thought away, instead pouring his own cup of perfectly healthy (though sugary) lemonade, and settled down into his familiar armchair. He sighed as he sat down, welcoming the soft comfort of the pillows around him.

"I'm definitely too old for this," he grumbled quietly, but loud enough for Al to hear. "Maybe now, I'll just get a little bit of time to –"

The doorbell rang.

" – relax." He glared angrily at the door, not wanting to move to answer it.

"I'll get it," Al said, and opened the door to a cheery Jean Havoc. For a moment though, he seemed slightly taken aback, as if surprised by something, but Ed must have imagined it because he immediately launched into his usual overly-cheery requests.

"Hey! Are you guys up for –"

"No," Ed cut in sharply.

"Brother," Al said, making his exasperation very clear. Ed sighed. Of course Al would take his side.

"So does that mean yes?" Jean asked with a grin. With a sigh, Ed got up and drained the last of the lemonade with a long gulp. He hadn't had the chance yet to take off his coat, so he was ready to go already.

"What are you planning?" he asked resignedly. Jean only seemed to take this in stride.

"I wanted to apologize for last time, so I picked out a movie we can watch –"

Ed groaned.

⁂ ⁂ ⁂

As it turned out, the movie he had picked wasn't absolutely terrible this time, and it wasn't a sappy love story either. Instead, they had marathoned a fast-paced adventure series: The Adventures of Indiana Jones, and had enjoyed nearly every bit of it.

Yet, Ed was still glad when they finally made it back home, late at night. There were experiments to run, research to be done, and they had already put it off for long enough. Now, they finally had wands and could come up with definite tests and results.

He grinned at Al. "Ready?" Al nodded and opened one of the books, flicking it open until he came across a certain page.

"Here it says that a spell called 'Wingardium Leviosa' is beginner material, so it should be easy to try out. It can make an object fly, and requires a 'swish and flick' motion. Like this." He demonstrated, and Ed watched his movements carefully. When he finally nodded confirmation that he got it, the grin finally broke out on Al's face too.

"Great. Ready to try it?" As an answer, Ed pulled out his wand, began the swishing motion, and spoke the words.

"Wingardium Leviosa."

A moment passed as they stared in excited anticipation.

Nothing happened.

"Maybe you should try pointing it at something?" Al finally suggested. Ed frowned, but now, pointing it at the book, tried again.

Nothing happened. Again.

Ed growled, and glared at the offending book.

"Stupid magic, it's not even –" he began, but Al interrupted his tirade before it could even really begin.

"Maybe I should try." He raised a dubious eyebrow at his little brother, but then again, graciously, allowed him the chance to try.

"Wingardium Leviosa."

When the book successfully began to float, Ed found that he couldn't even begin to express the dark feelings that were bubbling inside of him.

"How come you could do it when –" he attempted anyway, but stopped when a moment later, there was a pop, and a letter suddenly fell onto their table. The book went down with it as Al's concentration broke. They both stared at the letter that had come from nowhere.

"Magic?" Al suggested halfheartedly. Ed nodded gravely.

"Magic," he agreed, as if it explained anything at all.

As if there weren't any mysterious occurrences of their own that the Elric brothers would have trouble explaining.


	9. Required by Law: Phase 8

A/N: I PASSED! I PASSEEEEEEDDDDDDDDDDDDDDDDDDDDDDDDDDDDDDDDDDDDDDD!

(Okay. Seriously. I wasn't expecting that. I passed the first rounds _and _the second rounds for the first time! I'm in the Allstate band! Ha!)

There was a Portal reference in the last chapter. And finally! This next chapter is written! A whole week late, but finally written! Hopefully the amount of content will make up for it :)

Anyway, I want to make a request for all of you: review honestly. If there's something you don't like about this story, or if it has weird spots, unclear spots, icky wordings, or something like that, just tell me. It really makes me super duper happy when I get a review saying you like/love my story (and I often reread it over and over with a goofy smile on my face and then run around showing it to all my dad at how nice people are on here), but I also want some constructive criticism. I know I'm more liable to giving it on stories if the author asks for it or has something on there profile about this, so I'm just mentioning it. But feel free to flatter me and my story if you want to! I love that too! (Tries to not sound like an attention-seeking idiot)

Oh, and I only reply to reviews in the actual document if they're guest reviews, since it just takes up space where there should be story. But now I've already taken so much space already, so... on with the story!

_reply to Guest:_ (Initial Reaction: *Froze* Wait... there was something in the prologue that was related to the last chapter?) Then I realized you were the same "Guest" and you meant about the Shamballa incident and what I had typed up in the author's note. XD Yeah, I understand it's sometimes hard to keep track of what happens in what story.

_reply to Moon: _Thanks! :)

* * *

**Required by Law**  
Phase 8.

* * *

Light filtered through the blinds, harsh and unforgiving to his eyes. Al blinked at it, then yawned, stretching as he got up from bed.

What time was it? It was definitely later than when he usually woke up, to get ready for school –

He blinked again.

Then his eyes widened as he realized.

School. Yesterday had been Monday, and _he hadn't gone._

It had been so simple to forget in the midst of discovering a new world of magic. So easy for it to just slip past his mind, to instead wonder about the strangeness of magic when he _should've _realized he was supposed to be in school. It wasn't that he was worried about missing the material itself – he already knew most of it – but instead that attending was a requirement by law. Skipping only brought unnecessary attention.

He rushed downstairs.

"Ed! I just realized –" but stopped, peering over the staircase rail only to find Ed sitting at the dinner table _with someone else_. Someone he didn't recognize.

"Who are you?" His already panicked state didn't leave much room for politeness, something that the stranger noticed if her raised eyebrows were any indication.

"I'm Mafalda Hopkirk. I sent a letter here the other day?" Al nodded; he remembered her name scribbled neatly beneath the signature. But why had she come _here_? The letter hadn't said anything about –

_"If any more unregistered magic is detected in this muggle residence, the Ministry of Magic will be forced to take action," _he recalled, the words suddenly flashing through his mind, and groaned.

"_Brother_," he scowled at the offender, "You didn't try magic without me, did you?" His sheepish look was answer enough. Al sighed and made his way to the table.

"Are we in any trouble, Mrs. Hopkirk?" She looked mildly surprised, as if she hadn't expected him to be so polite, but quickly covered it with a smile.

"No, of course not. I was just explaining to Edward here," she gestured toward Brother, "about the Statue of Secrecy. You see, one of the most important rules we have is that under no circumstances, unless explicitly approved by the Ministry, is any wizard to reveal magic to a muggle. When I saw an unauthorized use of magic in a muggle home –" her cheeks were now tinged slightly red, as if embarrassed. "Well, I jumped to conclusions. So really, you two aren't in any trouble trouble at all. And to think! You were never contacted by the magical community at all?"

"No," Ed said with a polite smile, shaking his head. "Is that so unusual?" But Al could see the well-disguised tension in Ed's body; he was worried about something, and this woman was the cause.

"Oh, yes!" she exclaimed excitedly. "Usually, we're able to detect magical children at birth, or if they suddenly enter the Ministry's province. I suppose... How old are you two boys?"

"Why do you want to know?" Ed asked guardedly. There was something there – something only Al could see – a slight downturn of the edges of his lips, the tension in his brother's body increasing by the slightest bit. Somehow, the woman's innocuous question had hit a nerve, and Al didn't know why.

She, however, noticed none of this.

"Oh, I was only wondering. You see, if you're over seventeen, it would make sense why we never could detect you. Although... I thought all countries had this system?" she mused. "Well, I suppose there's nothing we can do now except remedy this situation. We can't change the past, after all!" She laughed, but neither Ed nor Al joined in.

"Al's thirteen," Ed said after an uncomfortable pause, his face settling into a strangely conflicted look. Mrs. Hopkirk nodded, inviting him to continue. "And I'm fifteen." Al struggled to hide his surprise. It was entirely possible to pass off; even after all these years, Ed's height was below average, but the question was _why_. Why had Ed decided to hide his true age?

"Wonderful! I'll contact Hogwarts right away and tell them –"

"Hogwarts?" Al asked before she could jump to another topic. Olivander had mentioned it earlier as well, and he was getting curious.

"The best and only magic school in all of England. It's where everybody goes to learn."

At that moment, the Elric brothers shared the same horrified expressions.

It was bad enough that _Al _had to go to school in this world, but Ed? He wasn't sure "Hogwarts" would still be standing by the end of it. He supposed this was the price of Ed's lie, only the justful repayment for once again, not thinking things through.

"We, um..." He glanced at Ed. He had to do something, anything to stop this atrocity, this misunderstanding, but the words wouldn't come out right. "We don't need to go to school," he finished lamely. It was true; they already knew more than the average adult, but he doubted Mrs. Hopkirk would accept that response.

"Nonsense! Every magical child in Britain has gone to Hogwarts. It's bad enough that you've gone so long without a proper education; now is the time to make up for that!" She paused, and when she saw our speechless faces, gently asked, "maybe I should speak to your parents about this? It's possible that –" But her sentence was interrupted from the sharp clap of hands slamming into the table, one hard automail, the other soft flesh.

"Don't patronize us," Ed snarled. The polite mask was gone. "we know perfectly well what you're asking us to do, and we _were_ planning on learning magic. We just _don't need to go to a school._"

Her expression was so stern, it would have been funny if Al wasn't so worried, so angry, so tense. "I think I need to see your parents."

"We don't _have _parents," Ed hissed.

Silence.

"Brother..." It was all he could think to say. All his feelings packed into one word. Reprimanding, for so easily losing his temper. Sympathetic, for he shared exactly the same sentiments. Yet also sadness, sorrow for the past that they could never regain. The parents who had died. The world that they were trapped away from, and all the friends they had left there.

And all that Ed understood. They were brothers; they'd been together almost all their entire lives, shared experiences. Al knew the impact this isngle word would have on his brother, wincing even as it reached his ears.

"Sorry, Al," he mumbled quietly. Then louder, to Mrs Hopkirk, "And excuse me for that." Adruptly, he stood – his face so impassive even Al could barely read the turbulent emotions beneath it – and walked out of the door to their own house.

Al ran after him. There was nothing in the house of too much value; he wasn't worried about Mrs. Hopkirk taking anything. But what was important, more important than anything else, was _Brother_.

He was leaned against the wall right next to the door, looking down, taking deep breaths. He offered a wry smile when he heard Al settle next to him.

"I really am an idiot, aren't I? She didn't even do anything, and I just –" He stopped.

"Blew up?" Al suggested after a pause. Ed nodded, and he tried his best to give a reassuring smile. "It happens."

"But that's exactly the problem!" His hands flew into the air, only to be lowered a moment later. "I'm sorry, Al, really. I didn't mean to –"

"I know." And then finally, there was a genuine smile on Ed's face.

"Thanks, Al." Al grinned.

"It's my job to drag you through the mud," he said teasingly, and Ed wrinkled his nose.

"You're quoting _Mustang _now? I thought you had better taste than that." And he laughed, a little more weakly than normal but _he had laughed. _Brother would be fine; he just needed Al to set his head on straight once in a while.

"Mrs. Hopkirk's probably waiting," Ed said finally, and Al smiled.

"I wonder if she's still there," he mused, earning a roll of the eyes.

"Come on, Al. She probably wouldn't leave if we wanted her to. Hogwarts this, Hogwarts that. We don't need to go to a _school _to learn about magic."

But to their surprise, the woman was gone by the time they reentered the house. Instead, a single piece of paper lay on the table, daring them to read it. And when they did, they groaned the same groan of despair.

She had gone ahead and registered them at Hogwarts.

"Well, it doesn't mean we have to go, right?" Ed said dubiously. "I mean, they can't make us." There was an uncomfortable pause as they realized yes, with magic they probably _could _force them to go. It wasn't like they knew the "Ministry of Magic's" laws.

"Why did you lie about your age anyway?" Al asked curiously. Ed sighed.

"It was stupid. Remember back in Ollivander's? He had mentioned it was odd for someone my age to get their first wand. I thought it would seem less strange if I was younger." His lips quirked upwards. "I guess I was wrong." Al chuckled.

"I bet you regret _that_." There was another long pause as his brother desperately searched for something to say, until his face suddenly went calm and he swtiched the topic.

"Why'd you come downstairs in such a hurry anyway? You said something about –"

"Oh!" Al's eyes widened in realization. "I forgot to go to school yesterday!"

But to his surprise, Ed only laughed.

"Don't worry, Al. I'm not as forgetful as you." He smirked at Al's annoyed expression. "I already called the school and told them you were sick."

"What about your work?"

"Same."

Al sighed.

⁂ ⁂ ⁂

It had only been a few hours when a wizard wearing a turban came for them, ringing the doorbell like any normal person.

"H-h-hello. I'm Q-Quirnus Quirrell. I saw you at th-the Leaky Cauldron?" Al blinked as he stared at the wizard through the open doorway.

"Are you okay?" he asked instead of answering.

"Er – yes." The man offered a weak smile, a shadow of the wry amusement he was evidently attempting. "I v-volunteered for this. I was c-curious."

Al stared at him.

"Would you like to come in?" he said finally. His questions could wait later; common courtesy should always come first, and this man was obviously in need of it.

"Th-thank you." The man shuffled in with a grateful smile, and Al held the door open for him. However, when Quirnus passed right by him, he was barely able to keep himself from wrinkling his nose in disgust.

What was that smell? It wasn't the sweat and grime he could've excused if the man had been exercising or simply forgotten to take a shower, but rather something more... mysterious. Sinister even. Like the foul stench of a decomposing corpse.

He hesitated, then followed Quirnus in.

"Brother, we have a guest," he called out, closing the door behind him. A voice soon replied, muffled by sleepiness and the comfy cushions of the armchair.

"Who is it?"

"Quirnus Quirrell. I think he's from the Ministry."

"Oh. Why's he –"

"Hogwarts," the man interrupted. "I-I'm from Hogwarts." The two brothers blinked at him.

"The school?" Ed asked, his voice more alert now, even bothering to stand up. "Why?"

"The, the Ministry wanted us t-to give you your a-acceptance letter." AN odd sort of smile, and then he pulled out two envelopes from his coat. "And this." Almost reluctant, Brother reached forward and grabbed them, quickly skimming through their contents. On the second one though, his eyes widened and his mouth hung open with shock it snapped shut angrily. Ed glared at Quirnus.

"You expect me to believe this?' he demanded. But the poor man's eyes widened in fear.

"I, I was only t-t-told to g-give it to you."

"Brother," Al cut in sharply. "Can I see it?" Wordlessly, Ed handed it over, and Al unfolded it carefully.

_Dear Edward Elric, _it read. _I have discovered the circumstances around your living conditions. I am not sure how you were able to register as the owner of the residence at only age fifteen, but I assure you, the Ministry of Magic does not have the same low standards as the muggle world. For the majority of the year, you will be staying at Hogwarts, but for the holidays and summer break, I have arranged other residence where a responsible adult can take care of you. Please give this letter to Tom, the landlord of the Leaky Cauldron, at your soonest convenience. Details are included in the information below._

_Best Wishes,  
Mafalda Hopkirk_

For a long time, Al could only stare blankly at the black ink infused into high-quality parchment, as if they were not words at all, but rather little pictures signaling doom and destruction. For a misunderstanding, this woman, Mafalda Hopkirk, was destroying the life the Elric brothers had worked so hard to build up for themselves.

"She did this?" His mouth felt oddly dry. "Without telling us?"

"T-the Ministry wanted a Hogwarts p-professor to give it and t-tell you about the Wizarding World." Al glanced up at him, but it was Ed who asked the question.

"Why?" The man shifted uncomfortably.

"I d-don't know. I just came because I was... c-curious."

"That's right," Al interjected. "You said that you saw us at the Leaky Cauldron, didn't you?" He nodded, and Al put on a smile. "Sorry, the news in that letter just put us on edge. You just came to give us them, right? Do you want some milk or something? Tea maybe?" The man hesitated.

"T-tea would be welcome."

"Sure." Before Al left to go to the kitchen, he turned and spoke to Brother teasingly, "And don't terrorize him, all right?" In other words, 'Don't shoot the messenger.'

"Yeah, yeah." But when Al turned his back and was safely far enough in the way, he could hear Ed asking almost too casually, "Hey, so can you tell your boss that we're not going to Hogwarts? Because we thought about it, but..." He continued, listing all these "persuasive" arguments against going to Hogwarts. Quirnus only made noncommittal noises that seemed to be of agreement, but could really mean anything.

And once again, Al sighed.


	10. Societal Interactions: Phase 9

A/N: I'm sorry, I've been jumping around all over the place, just coming up with new story ideas and updating things that are specifically _not _this story. The reason behind it was because I was actually getting stressed about writing _fanfiction_, and well, my whole reason for writing this is because I want to, and it's fun. I'm sorry for not updating, but honestly, I don't regret it because I will _not _stress over this. Unfortunately, that means no scheduled updates anymore (like that worked out too well anyway). From here on out, it's just whenever, wherever. I'm also trying to make an effort to make chapters longer, but that didn't really happen this time because I figure that you'd rather get an update half the size of what I wanted to do today, rather than an update in a year of a chapter double of what this is.

Also,** I vamped up the prologue**, so it's not just an itty bitty little thing that is dwarfed by just the author's note. It will be more of an action sequence so I promise it's not absolutely boring, and does a lot more "show" and not "tell." So, that's good. I also went back and revised some stuff, and discovered a whole bunch of typos. Woops.

Another thing! I put a poll on my profile that **you should definitely check out **because it determines pretty much absolutely nothing except for one minor detail that's been bugging me. I kind of also want to combine chapters two and three... they're both Halloween right? My chapters are pretty kind-of-short anyway. I mean, the scroll bar is huge on the right side of the screen.

_reply to Guest: _Err... Yeah. Ed is conveniently being silly for convenient plot reasons. :)

_reply to Ugly Owl: _Thanks. Err... I happen to be in the position of knowing exactly what house they will be in, but well... spoilers. ;P

* * *

**Societal Interactions**  
Phase 9.

* * *

"Hey, Brother?"

"Yeah, Al?"

"Are we going to go to Tom and show him the letter?"

"No."

A pause.

"Why not?" There was a large intake of breath.

"Why do you think, Al?" he gritted out.

The two brothers were at one of the restaurants they frequented – _not _the Leaky Cauldron. This one usually had a more cozy atmosphere, bringing out the tension easily from anyone's body, but today, it did nothing to relieve Ed's headache. Someone he barely knew had just come up and destroyed the life-style he had spent hard effort on creating for them both, decided they were nothing but "children," and put them in a _magic school _(He thought the two words with the most derision possible). Well, he didn't have to do any of it. He _refused _to even do something as simple as give a letter to someone who might be their friend because it was all so _stupid _and –

"I think you're just being stubborn."

Ed glared at him.

"Yeah? And what's wrong with that?" For a long moment, his little brother was silent, staring at him eerily. Ed shifted uncomfortably. He knew that look, and he didn't like it.

But what came out of Al's mouth then surprised him even more.

"I think we should go to Hogwarts."

"What!?"

Ed found himself standing, hands planted firmly onto the cozy mahogany. His eyes were widened, staring at his little brother in shock.

"I think we should go to Hogwarts," Al repeated, and Ed groaned, slowly settling back into his seat, surreptitiously glancing around to see if anybody was staring. They were, but most looked away fairly quickly when met with the fierce golden glare. The chair scraped against the floor as he shuffled in closer to the edge of the table.

"Al," he muttered, "You better have some good reason for suggesting that."

There was an easy smile on the boy's face, feeling not at all threatened.

"Don't you remember? You said you wanted to 'fix' the Wizarding World."

For a long moment, Ed could only stare at him, a warm blissful feeling growing inside him. An insane urge to laugh, to smile, to hug this brother of his. Soon enough, there was a large grin growing on his face. He had already forgotten all the argument they had only a few minutes prior.

"You..." He licked his dry lips, suddenly afraid he was misunderstanding. "You agree with me? That it does need fixing?"

Al grinned and nodded. Ed shared in the sudden glory, laughing heartily.

"Damn right. Those elitist bastards are going down! Nothing can stop the Elric Brothers at their best." A smug smirk, before his eyebrows furrowed as he realized an inconsistency in this logic. "Wait a second... Al, what does this have to do with Hogwarts?"

"Well," the younger brother explained patiently, "If we're going to change anything, we have to understand the culture, right? We don't know anything about this place; it doesn't make sense to just barge in and demand social equality for everyone."

Ed scowled. That... had been something similar to what he had been planning.

"Yeah, yeah. I get it." He looked down and absentmindedly picked up his fork, quickly eating more of the pasta. "What do you think about this whole business with Tom, though?

Al considered.

"It shouldn't matter if we stay someplace else for a while, right? As long as we sort out our bills and ask someone to take the mail for us. Besides, we'll come back eventually. We're just going on a side project of sorts."

"And school?" Ed asked wryly. "You were fairly panicked when you realized you skipped."

"What about work?" Al countered, then made a face. "That didn't help with my argument, did it?"

"No," agreed Ed. "It didn't."

Al shifted uncomfortably.

"Well, it's not like we did all this when we were just travelling around," he pointed out, and Ed had to agree with him. "Besides, Hogwarts is a school."

He raised an eyebrow at this one, though.

"You think they'll just let you off the hook because you're going to a _magic _school? Al, it's probably not even in the records."

"Well, they obviously get students _somehow_."

"Yeah, yeah." Ed sighed and leaned back. His bowl of pasta was now conspicuously empty, and he waved for the waiter. "I guess we'll go see Tom and see what this is all about."

Al's grin was answer enough.

When the waiter arrived, he asked for the check. It was time to go and take care of business, and he honestly had already eaten enough for himself. Al had already finished his plate off long ago. Soon enough, they were walking out of the restaurant, pleased and content with themselves for finally coming to a decision.

Ed, however, was now having second thoughts. There were too many problems with this idea of just going off someplace they barely knew about. And yet, Al didn't know about the worst problem – how could he? – so it was difficult to argue against. He had worried about it, earlier when he had seemed so close to figuring it out, when the tension between the two brothers had almost been palpable, and yet… Al had given it up. Al trusted him.

That thought alone sent thousands of beams of warm sunlight to his heart.

His thoughts settled into a form of contentment. Here they were, the two of them, _together_, just walking. There were no worries, not any that needed to be addressed at this moment. The weather was nice, a cool breeze throwing off the oppressive overbearing sun. And because it was daytime and this was London, most people were at work rather than wandering the streets. Of course, the traffic was always a nightmare, but it was … nice. A sign of normality, almost.

And of course, when anything became even close to normal, it had to be completely and irrevocably destroyed.

"You!" A shout came from behind him. Ed whirled around quickly, old instincts ingrained into him flaring up once more. His eyes easily found the lone man behind him, pointing a finger wildly at the two brothers. His eyes squinted as he looked at him. Did he know him?

"Me?" he repeated, loosening his stance slightly.

"Edward Elric!" the man spat. Ed stiffened. Wasn't this the sort of thing that happened in Amestris, when he was the Fullmetal Alchemist? Why would someone _here _bear such a grudge?

"Yeah? And?" The man looked vaguely familiar, but he couldn't place it. He quickly glanced at Al, but his little brother looked just as confused as he felt, if not even more.

But all confusion evaporated when the man pulled out a wand, only to be replaced by panic.

"_Stupify!_" Ed's eyes widened.

"Duck!" he cried out, immediately dropping to the ground. He heard Al do the same beside him. Soon, they both were back on their feet, running at the man to stop him from casting any more spells.

"Isn't this supposed to be muggle London?" Ed yelled out as he ducked a green bolt of light. Luckily, not many people were in the streets to be in danger, but there were plenty of people inside their cars staring. He thought wizards didn't like that, after all the warnings Tom had pounded into their head.

"Do you think I care?" the man snarled. "You ruined everything! We were going to discover a new _world_, and you stopped us!"

That brought Ed's racing thoughts to a stop.

"A new world?" he repeated slowly. "You mean… you're from the _Golden Dawn_?"

Damn it, he had thought all of that was over and done with.

Then another thought occurred to him.

"Wait, you mean you knew that magic was _real_?"

He dodged another blast of red light.

"Of course magic is real!" the man snarled. "It was only you _idiots _who never realized that. Obsessing about science and _alchemy_ –" he spat it out as if it were a dirty word, "– never even realizing what was right in front of you all along."

Suddenly, Ed was able to place the man's face.

"It's you! That bastard who told Noah to read my mind!"

His eyebrow raised, even as he bit out another incantation and sent another flying bolt of light Ed's way.

"How eloquent of you."

And despite himself, Ed couldn't help the smug expression on his face. Of all the bastards he had wanted revenge on after that day, _this _was the one he had most envisioned punching in the face with hard automail. It was only too bad that the man never bothered to even look behind him, never even bothered to wonder where the second boy had been during the entire fight. For right behind him, Alphonse was readying to knock him out.

Ed grinned viciously as he watched the man fall to the ground, and casually walked over to the collapsed body, giving it a nice kick in the guts.

"Nice job, Al." But when he looked up, his little brother was frowning.

"Brother… if the Golden Dawn already knew about magic, then why did they want to learn about alchemy too?"

"I don't know, Al." He frowned, then looked around. "Hey, is it just me, or is it odd that no one's come to bug us about knocking a guy out? Not even the people in the cars are staring anymore."

Somehow, the London streets had returned to the normalcy that had encompassed it only moments before. And yet, for the two brothers, things couldn't have been further from normal.

"Ministry of Magic, get your wands out!" A shout came from behind him. Ed groaned.

He had jinxed it.

⁂ ⁂ ⁂

"So… you're saying that this man just started attacking you?"

Two wide-eyed boys nodded eagerly, and she sighed.

Mafalda Hopkirk was not having a good day. Oh, it had started perfectly ordinarily, filling out forms, sending out letters, doing the Ministry business as usual. She had even felt satisfaction at how she had neatly solved the Elric case, finding them a place to stay after registering them for Hogwarts. She didn't know how they had managed to escape detection for so long, but nonetheless, she was pleased at herself for fixing the issue completely.

That was before she had discovered exactly how troublesome these two boys were. Before a perfectly respectable wizard, Moralt Bulstrode, had apparently attacked them, and had managed to have been knocked out by two seemingly-innocent boys.

Two _seemingly_ innocent boys.

She sighed again.

"And can you explain to me again how you managed to knock him out?" She had begun thinking she had made a mistake in approaching them in the first place.

She didn't know that was exactly what the two boys had been hoping for all along.

"Well, um…" the younger one stuttered. He glanced at his older brother, who was now looking curiously out the office door to watch the hustle and bustle of Ministry officials, before adopting a serious expression and leaning in. Subconsciously, she adopted his position, some part of her feeling as if she was just about to learn some great secret. The other part was plain tired, and wanted to be done with these kids as soon as possible.

"What do you know about the Golden Dawn?"


	11. Wonderfully Nefarious Things: Phase 10

A/N: Err... Sorry. Hogwarts might be a little while in coming. I got a fairly nice subplot cooked up sometime between the posting of that last chapter and now and it may push back the number of chapters to Hogwarts. However, on the bright side, things will finally be happening! And these 10 months will be much more productive for the Elric Brothers, rather than waiting in suspended nothingness while the author has no idea what to do with them. Also, I'm really really sorry about how long it took to get this chapter out. I wrote the first half of it practically the day after I posted the last chapter, and then I got... stuck. And I feel like the quality deteriorated a bit too, but it might just be the level of writing the entire story, and the premise that it was based on makes it a bit difficult for me. Hopefully next chapter will be easier, fresh start. (Wowa, sorry, somehow comments from my brother in Gdocs got added to this... anybody who read this before must've thought I was crazy, talking to myself O.O)

Tom's character is becoming a bit... difficult for me. It's been so long, and since I sort of made up his voice and a lot of his history, his speech pattern and personality isn't so set in my brain and it might fluctuate a bit. If you catch any of that, letting me know would be awesome.

Hey, we reached over 50 reviews and over 150 followers on this story! Thank you, everybody! :)

Guest: Thanks :) Yeah, I've always had a soft spot for her too. Wait, how did you know what I was typing into this chapter before I even posted it?

Guest2: Err... yes. I did say this is post-CoS. Unfortunately, the use of this specific acronym is actually very problematic in the HP/FMA crossover... Observe. **C**onqueror **o**f **S**hamballa (the movie). **C**hamber **o**f **S**ecrets. I was referring to the first one. Sorry about the confusion, but there's a word count on the summary :/ This story actually starts a little before the first book of the Harry Potter series.

* * *

**Wonderfully Nefarious Things  
**Phase 10.

* * *

"The Golden Dawn?" she repeated, trying the words in her mouth. It sounded vaguely familiar… "Oh!" She snapped her fingers, as the realization came to her. "You mean that incident last Halloween, when someone spilled the beans to all those muggles?"

She remembered that. It had caused a lot of trouble, all the aurors and Ministry officials scampering around to get the mess cleaned up. She too had her part in fixing it, sending letters to worried parents, to any of the wizards involved, and even to some teens who had suddenly taken it upon themselves to "help out." She had heard all kinds of rumors about that day – that they had opened some kind of gate to another world, that a suit of armor had been the mastermind behind it all, and even something about a muggle and a cat – but also knew that the true perpetrator had been neither confirmed or found. And if she aligned the facts with what these boys seemed to be suggesting, and how a seemingly innocent man had apparently gone chaotic and attacked them...

She would discover something absolutely preposterous.

Slowly, ever so slowly, she said, "Are you proposing that Moralt Bulstrode was somehow involved in this incident?"

The older boy snorted.

"Involved?" He made the word sound diminutive, scandalously wrong. "He was the guy who orchestrated the whole thing."

Mafalda Hopkirk made a noncommittal noise that could have been interpreted as a squeak of excitement, or even of terror.

"A damn right bastard." He sounded irrationally pleased with himself. "Even went right up in my face, asking me _if the circle was right_," he mocked, a sneer on his face. He was not the innocent boy – not that he had ever seemed to be innocent, now that she thought about it – she had initially presumed he was. "And then Noah – Noah!"

She was briefly surprised at the emotion that crossed his face. He leaned in.

"Hey, have you ever seen a tall gypsy girl around? Black hair, brown eyes? Pretty?" She heard a snicker from the younger boy, and Edward shot him an annoyed glance. "Well?"

Mafalda struggled to keep her voice neutral. "No, I haven't heard of a tall gypsy girl. If you want, I could ask around. What's her name?"

"Noah."

"No surname?"

"That's right." She frowned, but briefly scribbled it on a paper, and send the query to her supervisor's office. The two boys watched the flying paper airplane go, wide-eyed.

"So what's this you say about Bulstrode? Do you have any proof to back this accusation?" she asked, ignoring the airplane. Like a caught fishnet, he brothers' attention soon returned to her.

"Proof?" Edward said incredulously. "He attacked us!"

"That doesn't mean he has any ties to the Golden Dawn incident." Once again, her voice was level, emotionless. It was a change from her earlier peppy self, when she had first met them. Usually, she would be kinder, but at the moment, she was tired, she was confused, and even this latest bit of gossip they were offering her wasn't enough to entice her to wakefulness. Besides, these kids weren't even _trying_ to be decent to her – she had seen it all before, arrogant snobby brats who thought they could take advantage of her. Well, right now she didn't have the patience for it.

"What if we can get proof?" Her head shot up, and she blinked at the younger one.

"Get proof?" she repeated dimly. In the back of her mind, there was a strange buzz of excitement that had been extinguished moments before. If she could prove something like that, she would be able to get a promotion. Something as scandalous as discovering who was behind the "incident" last year...

_No._ She pushed the thought away. Such glory-seeking would do nothing for her.

"Of course." Alphonse smiled pleasantly. "We would hardly accuse someone of this without proof, would we?"

"No..." she said slowly, still staring. Her gaze flickered to the older one's smug expression. What were they planning? "I suppose not."

"Then would you mind giving us a rulebook?" Edward joined in. The smug smile had grown into an all-out grin. She felt as if she were being attacked on two fronts, both brothers joining in to bring her down. "It'll take a few days before we'll be able to show you, and we need to know all the rules before then." Hesitantly, she reached into a drawer and pulled out her personal copy, tentatively shoving it across the table. Edward grabbed it smoothly, that same damned grin still on his face. She felt a strong feel of foreboding.

"I – I'm afraid that I'm not the actual authority on these cases," she stammered, feeling as if she shouldn't be admitting this, as if she shouldn't give up any edge possible against these two boys. "You'll have to go to someone else higher up to actually charge him with the crimes that you claim he committed. Although," she paused to consider, "he will likely be charged for attacking you two. That, at least, we have on record."

The two boys nodded, as if it were only to be expected. She continued smoothly, suddenly feeling in control once more.

"However, there is a matter that I _can_ take care of for you." She smiled pleasantly, the cheery attitude appearing once more. "We need to discuss Hogwarts."

Upon hearing the two identical groans, she wondered why she had ever thought them more than just two normal, albeit slightly unnerving, teenagers.

⁂ ⁂ ⁂

After having filled their heads with information about Hogwarts, Hogsmeade, the Ministry, and all other things magical, the two brothers were finally heading towards the Leaky Cauldron. To Tom, who they had been intending to meet hours before, but had been thwarted by Bulstrode and then the Ministry. That had been unfortunate, but now they were in a much better position of understanding and had more knowledge to base their decisions on. Mrs. Hopkirk had been all to happy to chatter on about the Wizarding World, after she had once more warmed up to them.

Then there was the law book they now carried. Ed carried it lightly tucked in between his fingers, almost with reverence. This was the tool he was going to use for his future exploits. In this book, there was the knowledge that he and his brother would need to begin changing this world.

To begin changing this world, and also to bring Bulstrode to justice.

"So, Al," he said almost cheerily as he walked. "What was that plan that you were talking about earlier?"

"I have no idea," Al replied, just as cheerily.

Ed stopped walking, and stared at his little brother in disbelief.

"You have no idea," he repeated.

"No idea," Al agreed with a smile, not at all looking concerned.

Ed sighed.

"Well, it was a good bluff," he offered. "It'll buy us some time at least to get this 'proof.'"

"Exactly." Al smiled and pranced over the rest of the short way to the Leaky Cauldron, pulling the door open graciously. "Besides," he grinned mischievously, "We're celebrating the good old times, right?" Ed felt his own grin forming, even as he slowly entered the comforting atmosphere of Tom's pub.

"Breaking and entering, huh? You're right, that's exactly like the good old times."

He savored the shocked expression on his little brother's face.

"That's not what I meant!" he protested.

"Yeah, yeah." He waved his hand carelessly at Al. "Of course it's not."

But then, a voice who was distinctly _not_ Al's spoke up. "Breaking and entering?" It was Tom, with that damning eyebrow lifted up high.

Ed gulped.

"You weren't supposed to hear that," he said. The man leaned forward.

"Nevertheless, I did hear that." Again, the eyebrow. "So what exactly were you talking about? Breaking and entering?"

Ed studied the man's face intently, gold eyes flickering back and forth. He stopped on the crooked smile on the man's face, and considered, head tilting to the side as he looked at Tom curiously. There was now a lackadaisical smile on his face.

"What would you do if I said I wanted to change this world?" he said, and Tom guffawed.

"Change _this_ world?" The man's eyes turned serious, and the laughter cut off suddenly. "You can't do anything if you think like that."

Ed's smile widened.

"So you'll help?"

"I never said that." His voice was unusually sharp for the friendly barkeeper, and Ed sobered quickly at it. Beside him, he felt Al also stiffening.

"Yeah?" Ed tossed carelessly, trying not to let his hurt show. "So you like it when these purebloods step on us muggles?"

"You're not a muggle," Tom said carefully.

Ed met his dark brown eyes.

"I know." With light fingers and the utmost respect, Ed lifted the Ministry's book from his side and set it heavily into Tom's hands. "This is a law book from the Ministry."

Tom skeptically flipped open the cover, and leafed through the paper. When he had gotten to the back cover, he sighed and snapped it shut.

"Let's talk somewhere else."

"Alright," Ed agreed easily.

The balding man took them once again to the back, to the familiar location of the sink, still filled with dishes. Ed frowned when he saw a broken plate off to the side of the sink. Why was that there?

Al seemed to have noticed too, shooting a worried glance at it, before a look of understanding crossed his face.

"I'm sorry about that, Tom," he began earnestly, and Ed marveled at how Tom's wary expression changed so drastically with these few words from his little brother. His face softened, when Ed hadn't even noticed how drawn out it had been, and some color returned to his cheeks. "Brother just doesn't know his own strength sometimes."

Ed shot him a startled look, then turned wide eyes back to the broken dish, seeming so insignificant beforehand. He had done that? But he didn't even...

Oh. Of course. It was when Al had told him Izumi was dead. His flesh hand went automatically to grip his hard automail left, a fact that was not lost on Tom judging by the thoughtful expression on the man's face.

"I'm sorry," he said, somewhat bewildered. "I hadn't even noticed... It was just..." He shook his head and regained the dignity proper for the title of Fullmetal Alchemist. Bowing slightly, he met the bartender's eyes directly. "I can fix it for you if you want."

And a second later wished he could take back his words. What the heck was he thinking? Alchemy didn't exist in this world. Without it, he couldn't fix anything even if he used duct tape and glue.

To his relief, the man laughed and waved his offer away. "You? A few days ago, you didn't even believe in magic. I doubt you know any repair spells."

Ed opened his mouth to make a hasty retort, but then snapped it shut as he considered the merit of the words. Especially the last part. Repair spells. _That_ would be useful. It'd be like having alchemy all over again.

That thought sent a strange pang running through him, so he changed the topic, remembering what they had come back here for.

"Can I have my book back?" Tom had been holding it throughout the entire conversation, and he looked dimly surprised to have it pointed out to him. Or maybe that was simply from the rapid topic change.

Almost reluctantly, the man handed it over and Ed snatched it out of his fingers, perhaps a bit too roughly. When he looked back up from the book, he found the wary look back in the bartender's eyes.

"So how exactly are you planning on changing our world?" he asked. Much to the man's surprise, it was Al who answered, rather than Ed, speaking with conviction.

"Don't you see all the bad that's going on in this society?" the thirteen year old boy said, hazel eyes ablaze. "The prejudice against muggles, the idea of 'blood purity'... Even within a society where everybody has the power to protect _themselves_, the power is abused to harm others. And..." The younger brother only paused for a moment to give Ed a considering glance before plowing onward, "the fact that wizards attacked another world, _murdering_ hundreds of innocent civilians, was covered up."

Ed jerked upright as if pulled by puppet strings. He gaped at Al.

_No._ They had agreed not to tell anyone. Why would Al betray that promise now?

... But with a sinking heart, he felt that he knew. The Shamballa incident had been harder on Al than it had been for him. Seeing that child's corpse, broken toy strung out carelessly by the wartorn houses – Al hadn't faced death in that way in his blissful returned childhood, remembering nothing of the horrors he had seen with his older brother beside him. Along with his memories came the confidence and determination to _change_ things, and hadn't Ed himself said that now was the time to change the world for the better? Writing this wrong that had been done to them seemed to be the only reasonable place to start.

"Alphonse..." he began with a strained voice, but Tom spoke over him.

"What are you talking about?" And for nearly the first time, the man's sole focus was on the younger brother, someone who he would see as a child.

"We know it as the Shamballa incident," Al said with uncharacteristic intensity. "It relates to the Golden Dawn." Ed felt numb as he watched another part of his life fall apart.

Tom's eyebrows furrowed, as if trying to remember, but then shook his head. "I don't... I don't believe I recognize the name."

And then suddenly, it was all anger that he felt.

"And you shouldn't, since it's none of your goddamn business." He gripped his book tighter and glared at all. "You _promised_, Al." His little brother had the decency to look ashamed, but more prominent was the anger sending a dark furious blush to his face. Ed already regretted the words, because _he understood, really, he did,_ but at the moment he felt too hurt to care.

So he turned sharply on his heel and left.

It wasn't his proudest moment. They had had their arguments in Amestris too, but always, always, they were alone. Always, they knew they had each other. And always, they knew the other would be safe no matter what happened, because they could take care of themselves. But in this world, they were as helpless as lost lambs, unable to perform alchemy and barely even novices in magic, and that was being generous. Martial arts didn't matter as much when guns were commonplace, and in this wizarding world, a long-ranged "hex" could do the deed just as easily. And Al appeared to be a weak child, in a body many years younger than his intellect.

None of this crossed Edward's mind as he marched out of the Leaky Cauldron. He was fuming, and his mind only recognized the fact that _yes, this has happened before, and every time before, they had always gotten out of it _together_._

Ed didn't go back to the house. He wandered the city, hands stuffed into his pockets like a sulking child. His thoughts turned in circles, wondering whywhywhy even while already knowing the answer. Slowly, the anger and hurt faded into frustration, and then finally irritation.

It was then that he realized that he was only a few blocks away from his workplace, and since he hadn't gone in a few days, it would probably be good to let his boss know he was still alive. And get some things done. And hopefully...

No, he wouldn't think about that now. Magic. Witches. The Golden Dawn. _Al._ There was already too much crap on his plate already.

The very thought made him feel guilty, but he steadfastly squashed it down and headed over to his job.

Mary Anne, his work partner, was the first to greet him, a comical expression of surprise filling her face.

"You're alive!" she said, then grinned seditiously. "You know, we were wondering about you for a while."

Ed felt another surge of irritation, before he sighed and pulled his coat off, draping it over his chair.

"Look, I just want to work right now. Things came up."

Mock amusement.

"You came to _work_ in order to get a break? Wow, must be hard at home." And there was something there, something seemingly so innocent that he had to stare at her for nearly a minute. The implication of the words was not lost on him.

"Look," he said forcefully, a frown marring his face. "I really don't want to deal with this right now."

She blinked innocently.

"Sorry?" A confused grin twisted her face. "Did I say something wrong?"

Ed nearly growled, but instead plastered on a smile.

"Ah, no," he said, his own too-fake voice grating on his nerves. "It's just been one of those days, you know?" Thankfully, she seemed satisfied with that, and Ed began booting up his computer. _Think engineering, engineering..._ he told himself obstinately. _What was that last project I was working on?_ It seemed too long ago to even contemplate.

"So how's your little brother doing?" Mary Anne's voice intruded on his thoughts, far too casually.

He stood up and left.


	12. The End of a World of: Phase 11

A/N: Well, ehm. This story has grown a bit in my absence, attention-wise. Over 100 favorites and 200 follows! Whoo! Thank you all!

But I want to ask you all for honest reviews, if you can take the time to write something. What do you think of this story? No holds barred, no half-hearted praises. What do you honestly think? Is it something that you read just because it's there? Is it legitimately good? What can I do to make it better?

_CrazyYaoiYandere:_ Hogwarts will be coming _sometime_... something always seems to backtrack it. It really depends on how this subplot develops as well as on your other point: the chapter length. I actually agree with you that the chapters are too short, haha, so I'm working on trying to lengthen them. I'm glad that you're so enthused about it though, so really, _thank you_ for the review! :)

* * *

**The End of a World of...  
**Phase 11.

* * *

The Dark Lord sat on his throne, conjured up in the abyss of his own mind. It was engraved with serpentine curves, soft lines snaking across smooth mahogany, spiced with the cold metal of his rule. On his brow rested a crown of thin air, a crown nonetheless for its weight, its severity, its _power_.

A power that he knew he did not have.

It had been a difficult fact to admit to himself, once he had found himself an incorporeal being, bound to the earth only by the power of the fragments of his soul buried under troves of many treasures. He had since seen things, oh, he had seen many things. Understood many things that he couldn't have hoped to glimpse before. Learned what had eluded him for so long.

Yet, he was only a fragment of his own soul. The knowledge drew him mad, mad with rage and anger and insanity. Or perhaps it was his nature, as a mere splinter, that doomed him to that. Long gone was his charm, his cunning, the mysterious factor that drew followers to him like he was a magnet.

His hand clutched tight around the arm of the throne, pale and spindly. It was only an image of how he imagined himself, and yet, it showed a deformed, serpentine monster. An image to match the rest of his nature, the snake having overtaken the man.

The Dark Lord sighed.

How long had it been since he had tasted the pleasures of flesh? How long had it been since he had commanded _respect_, held the attention of all with his simple presence? Since he had felt the power of magic coursing through his veins, the exhilarating high of casting dark, forbidden magic. Oh, he could create anything he could want within his mind like this, but it was never enough to replicate reality. No, even as he sat on this throne of wood and iron, he still felt the mournful reality juxtaposed with the opulence of the mind, a chilling, desolate wind blowing through his spirit in the forests of Albania.

Wait. What was that?

A man. He could sense a man walking through this forests, a flush too his cheeks as he gripped his coat tight around his body in an effort to dispel the cold. The Dark Lord dispelled the image of his throne and palace, eagerly floating to observe the man. He was obviously a wizard, from his garb. Why wasn't he casting a spell to rid himself of the chill?

Ah. Of course. The man must have been looking for _him_, and didn't want to alert him to his presence.

The Dark Lord cocked his head to the side, bemused. Was this man looking for him? Why?

_How could he use this to his advantage?_

_Llegilimens_ was not an option. Eye contact was impossible when the other party could not see him. He did not have enough power for it in this form, anyway.

He came to a decision. A smile ghosted his face.

"_Hello_," he whispered. "_Have you come to find me?_"

⁂ ⁂ ⁂

Al stood uncomfortable in Tom's scrutiny.

"So," the man asked, finally, after eternities had come and gone, "that really wasn't something you two had agreed on telling me, was it?"

He shook his head mutely.

"Huh." Tom eyed him speculatively. "I had a brother once, too. My twin, actually."

His head shot up.

"Had a brother?" he asked before he could stop himself for the insensitivity. But he thought it was fine, since the offer to talk had been clear in the man's casual words.

"Yeah. We used to run the inn together. My little sister too – she always tried to help around whenever she could. But it was really my brother and I who were close."

The man paused, waiting for something, and Al stayed stock-still, as if frozen. He was watching the man's face very carefully.

"Did you get into fights often?" he asked, voice clear and purposeful. It was genuine curiously, mixed with an urge to discover how to make things right again between him and Brother. They have had many fights before, but never in this world, and not when the situation seemed so precarious.

But then, Al wasn't really sure if he wanted to make up with Ed. He was right in telling Tom; he had to be. Already, this magic was scraping so close to their past, and they couldn't keep all their secrets clutched tight to their chests. This was hardly the worst of them.

"All the time," laughed the barkeeper, and it took Al a moment to remember what he had asked. "They say that when siblings are closer in age, they get on each other's nerves more. We were no exception. But you two seem to blow up at each other regardless of the age difference."

"Hmm," Al said noncommittally, and Tom inspected him closely.

"You know, I don't think I've ever met someone as young as you acting as old as you do," he remarked, in a similar tone of voice.

Al was startled.

"What?"

"Your brother just left you alone in a place that you've been in what, three times? And you're not nervous at all?" He chuckled. "I know when I was a kid, just talking face to face with an adult casually seemed almost impossible, and even if it did happen, I'd be quaking in my boots. You, though, you're completely natural."

He sobered.

"But I shouldn't pry. Especially considering what had happened last time you told me something you probably shouldn't have."

"It's okay," Al said, and it really wasn't. "Brother shouldn't have gotten that upset." And here, a trace of bitterness crept into his voice, "It's not like no one else knows anyway."

"Then why tell me?"

Al looked him, confused because the answer was just so obviously simple.

"Because you could help us. We've never had any problems with asking people for help before. So in return for your assistance, it would only be fair to share some trust with you. It's equivalent exchange."

He could see Tom open his mouth to make a hasty retort, but then something seemed to have caught his interest and a more curious expression rested on his face.

"Equivalent exchange?" he asked.

"Humankind cannot gain anything without first giving something in return," Al recited, easily recalling the days of endless memorization drilled into their heads by Teacher. "To obtain, something of equal value must be lost. It's the first rule of alchemy, and governs to the world around us too."

Again, the fish-gaping expression, before settling into a more wary look.

"You know alchemy?" Unspoken was the accusation: _but you only learned about magic a week ago._

The words hadn't been a slip of the tongue.

"Yes. Where we're from, everybody knows about it. I think it's different though, from the alchemy that you know in the Wizarding World."

The bartender mulled that over for a good while, before speaking again, words carefully spoken and drawn out.

"I think we're entering dangerous waters here again," he said.

"It's okay," Al repeated simply.

The friendly barkeeper's face turned stormy.

"It's not okay. I can't take advantage of you like that for my own curiosity; if your brother doesn't want to tell me, then you two better discuss it, not to behind his back and tell me now."

Oh. Now Al understood. This was about his age. Well, that was fine.

"Okay," he said, standing up from the stool he had been sitting on. "I'm sorry for the trouble we have put you through." He made a slight bow. "It was nice talking to you."

He was making his way to the door that would lead to the public area of the inn, when a hand grabbed his shoulder.

"Wait." Tom's voice betrayed his confusion and worry. "Where are you going?"

Al stared at him, startled. Where was he going?

"To the river," he answered honestly, after thinking it through for a moment. It was where he always went after he and Brother had a fight. There was something about moving water...

"Alone?" Tom was dismayed.

"No," he lied. "Brother will meet me there." _Maybe_.

"You didn't agree on that before he left," Tom said evenly, and Al conceded the point to him.

"That's true. But I can take care of myself until we meet up." Even after a year, he wasn't used to dealing with adults so concerned over his young age. In Amestris, it had been heartening, but here, with his real body, it seemed to happen so often it made him feel claustrophobic. Where had the freedom of travel and journey gone? He was sure that in Amestris everything hadn't been so restricted.

Tom was incredulous.

"You're what, eleven years old?"

"... I'm twelve." Or eighteen, depending on if you counted the years of regained memories and the soul, rather than the age of the body.

"Look, just stay here until your brother comes back. I can lend you some books, or a room if you want privacy. I'm sure your brother will be back soon."

It was unlikely. Brother had only ever found him by the river when something happened. He wouldn't be thinking like Tom was, of a child who shouldn't wander the streets alone. He too, was used to Al's older, capable self.

"Sorry, sir," Al said. "But I really doubt that he'd be looking for me here."

He pushed his way out the door, and ignoring the glances of the other customers in the inn, started making his way to the river.

Then, remembering the letter from one Mafalda Hopkirk with a sudden clarity, turned around.

Tom was relieved to see him. He had been waiting out the front entrance of the inn, craning his neck to find the boy, and Al felt guilty for the worry he caused the man.

"Sorry," he said for what felt like the hundredth time, once they had reentered the inn. "But I really just came back to give you something."

He pulled the letter from the pocket, the entire reason why they had begun their journey to the Leaky Cauldron last morning. Of course he was the one who had it; it didn't seem surprising to him at all that this entire time, Ed had completely forgotten about it in favor of the plots that meeting with Moralt Bulstrode had inspired. That stuff was infinitely more interesting than the tedious duties of everyday life, after all.

"This is it."

He watched anxiously as Tom unfolded the letter and read it. Every second that the barkeeper's eyes steadily roved the paper seemed like an eternity. No, it wasn't that this was a "tedious duty of everyday life." It had been an unpleasant task their mind had been deliberately ignoring, because the reception of this letter would determine such a large part of their shared future.

At last, Tom looked up from the paper.

"You're going to Hogwarts," he said blandly, as if not quite believing the words himself. "And you're going to live here during the holidays."

"Yes."

Tom hadn't known either?

"Well." He seemed to be at a loss for words. "Well, like I said earlier, there are plenty of rooms here."

"Your Ministry of Magic is weird," Al informed him somberly.

Or maybe it was just wizards in general who were strange.

⁂ ⁂ ⁂

"But I –"

The man was confused. Good. _It was time to strike._

"_Have you ever felt powerless, Quirinus? Have you been condemned by society, _trapped _in your own body and helpless to stop it?_" The Dark Lord's voice softened. _"__Betrayed?_"

Quirinus Quirrell looked down. He couldn't meet the Dark Lord's gaze, even with his inability to see the spirit.

"I... I heard you were good at manipulating people," Quirrell said weakly.

The Dark Lord remained silent. His work was done here. He could have said many words, many words such as _It only feels so because I am right_, or _Do you wish to exist outside the limits of others? To be more?_

The man finally looked up, his eyes wandering in the dark and somehow, instinctively, landing them upon the Dark Lord's own face. It brought a thrill of pleasure to be recognized so, and the Dark Lord repressed it angrily as soon as it came to him. The follower should be to one to be pleased for his attention, not the other way around.

Still, he reveled in his moment. A moment of regained glory.

Quirrell smiled, a hesitant, weak smile. It would do.

"I accept," he said.

And so the pact was made.

⁂ ⁂ ⁂

The implications of Mary Anne's words had nettled Ed. She was right; being away from work didn't look good at all, considering what the situation was already like. Storming away like that would make it only worse, but somehow, he couldn't bring himself to care.

Frustrated and feeling restless, he paced down the street hurriedly despite the frigid air, ignoring the looks the other pedestrians were giving him.

He didn't want to dwell on the issue anymore. There were other issues – like the wizards. And Al.

The thought of his younger brother brought a sinking feeling to his heart. The argument.

He quickly reorientated himself and let his feet guide him to the Thames River, where his brother was sure to be. Most likely at a park, where he could get close enough to touch the water. So. That's where he'd check first.

When he didn't find Al at the first park – the place with the highest probability of being Al's destination, considering all variables such as distance – he wasn't worried. He simply checked the next suitable site. And then the next.

By the time he had been through almost all the potential areas, he was frantic. Every time, he hoped that Al would just be there, that he had just walked a little further away than normal –

He hadn't.

Ed struggled to calm his racing heart. Where else could Al be? It was a big city. He could be hurt. No, no, he couldn't think like that. What other places did they both know, and it would be reasonably nearby to the Leaky Cauldron?

… The Leaky Cauldron.

He supposed it was worth a try.

"Al!" he burst in through the door, already calling his name before he had properly entered. "Al, are you in here?"

Panic flooded him when he couldn't spot his little brother at the bar. But only a moment later –

"Sheesh, I'm right here," Al said, walking in from an entrance labeled "bathroom." The annoyed attitude disappeared disappeared when he saw Ed's face, to be replaced by worry and confusion. "What's wrong?"

Ed stared a him dumbly.

"What's wrong? You – _Why are you still here?_"

The confusion crystallized into sudden understanding.

"Oh, you mean not by the river," he said nonchalantly, with an odd look of relief. "Tom didn't want me to leave. _I'm only twelve_, you know." The way he said it made his disdain for his age clear, as well as a pointed reminder towards Ed about the age difference. He knew that Ed didn't tend to think things through – not the common sense, more adrenaline-filled decisions anyway.

Ed's anger deflated immediately. "Al, I –" He glanced around surreptitiously, immediately grateful that they didn't have an audience. He returned his gaze back to Al, and took a step forward, about to speak, though not quite sure what –

"I also showed Tom the letter," Al said offhandedly.

His jaw dropped.

"You – you – _what?_"

"I showed him the letter. He seemed to take it well." Al shrugged.

Now he _knew_ Al was messing with him. Maybe the words were true, but...

_Argh_. Why did he have to have such a frustrating little brother?

"Alright, alright," he said, sighing. "So Tom kept you here. And you showed him the letter. Anything else?"

He had this terrible, ominous feeling that there would be something else, something so utterly horrendous and terrible that –

"Nothing," Al replied brightly.

"Oh. Right. Um." He glanced around, noticing the fading light out the window. He suddenly felt exhausted, drained. "Do you want to go back to the house?"

Al had a strange mixture of trepidation and sympathy on his face.

"Ed, I showed him the letter."

"What?" He blinked owlishly. _The letter_? What did that have anything to do with...

Oh.

_Oh_.

Ed scowled. _This_ was the drop, the third dreaded thing that he had feared. Not simply a letter at all, but a determination of their fate. "So do we just want to crash here for the night, or what? Get our stuff later, then?"

Al's eyebrows furrowed. He wasn't happy with it either. "Tom said there were plenty of rooms, so I suppose it would be fine."

"Ah."

Silence. He remembered the reason for the argument they had earlier.

"Al –"

His little brother looked away petulantly. "I'm not going to apologize."

"You don't need to."

Surprise.

"What?"

"It was... It was stupid. It wasn't worth getting angry with you." Ed couldn't meet his eyes, remembering Mary Anne's words. The incident. _That_. He didn't want to think about it. It was his little brother that mattered. "If I'm ever acting stupid again, tell me, alright? Give me a good knock to the head."

They smiled, a private smile between brothers. They understood.

There was too much change, too much strangeness in this new world, to not be united. They were brothers. That was all that mattered.


End file.
